


Goodnight, Irene

by BlackRabbit



Series: Goodnight Irene [1]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Romance, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 55,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23915887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackRabbit/pseuds/BlackRabbit
Summary: Irene Foster arrives at the 4077th prepared for the harsh realities of war. What she finds, however, she never expected.
Relationships: Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Goodnight Irene [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861669
Comments: 50
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gyrwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyrwolf/gifts).



> Hello everyone, I'll keep this brief. This story was written with a good friend in mind and I sort of catered to things she likes to read. These fanfictions are my relaxation time between writing novels so be kind if I missed anything in my edits. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!

**1**

**A Nurse With No Name**

Irene Foster sat a little straighter in the front seat of the jeep as it round the last corner and the 4077th MASH came into view. It wasn’t much to look at; a sea of olive colored tents, tin buildings, and camouflage netting, nestled in a narrow valley between rugged mountains. A river snaked around behind the compound, disappearing around the bend.

It had been planned that she and her driver would arrive promptly after breakfast that morning, but with a rash of shelling between Seoul and the 4077th, they had arrived after supper. The early evening air was chill, but it wasn’t quite cold enough to freeze the puddles, though she didn’t think it would be much longer before that was the case.

People gave her brief glances as they passed, and a young Corporal greeted her in front of the office. He smiled shyly, noticed a lacy beige bra, yanked it off the board and kicked it behind a rock.

“Welcome to the 4077th Lt. Foster,” he said, offering a hand to help her down from the jeep. He was a nervous little thing, with wire rimmed glasses and sweaty palms. Irene returned his smile and he blushed deeply, turning his head away to hide the crimson of his cheeks.

“Thank you, Corporal.”

“You’ve been assigned to A tent ma’am. Major Houlihan’ll get you on the duty roster first thing in the morning.” Radar grabbed her bag and started toward the far end of the compound.

“Margaret’s here? It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her. So, what’s your name Corporal?” Irene asked, dodging patches of mud in the road.

“Corporal O'Reilly ma’am. But you can call me Radar,” he said, side eying her with a grin.

“Well then, thank you Radar. You can call me Irene.”

“Oh no ma’am! I can’t call you that, I’m just a Corporal. The Major’ll have my head!” Radar protested, clutching her bag to his chest as if to protect himself. He opened the nurses tent door for her, and she strode past him.

Irene thought he was darling, the way he bumbled about, and within minutes he had won her heart. “Well, I don’t want you to get in trouble Radar. How about this. Off duty, you have my permission to call me by my first name. It’ll be our little secret.”

Inside, the tent was cramped but relatively tidy. She ducked under the line of undergarments without thought, but Radar was distracted by them. Two bunks offered sleeping space on either side of the door, and the third wall had a cot, a stand-up locker, and a couple foot lockers for the girls to share. On top of the olive drab blankets were small colorful quilts. It reminded her more of summer camp than a military unit.

She removed her jacket and cap, choosing to store her dress uniform in the stand-up locker. Radar opened his mouth to speak when her jacket slid from her shoulders, but he stopped when a voice rang out across the compound.

“Incoming wounded, all available staff to the OR.”

Suddenly the quiet camp was in an uproar. People could be heard outside scrambling about, yelling, and rushing to their posts.

“Duty calls,” Irene said with mock cheer, kicking off her heels. Nimble fingers tied her dark, shoulder length hair into a bun.

“What are you doing ma’am? You don’t be on the roster until morning.”

“Radar, I’m available staff. I’m probably better rested than most of your outfit. Besides, no one should know I’m here yet and I want to get an unfiltered view of how the doctors and nurses work together. Now, if you'll step outside, I can get out of this dress uniform,” Irene said.

“Wait Lieutenant. ma’am, Major Houlihan doesn’t much like surprises. She even said so when Hawkeye put a frog in the drawer she keeps her unmentionables in. Oh gosh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to mention the Major’s unmentionables.”

Irene giggled, shoving Radar out of the tent as the sound of choppers grew ever closer. “I go way back with Margaret. It’ll be fine. Let me get dressed and you can take me to her.”

Within moments Irene was dressed and joining Radar outside the tent. The chill down her spine reminded her that she had stashed her jacket. It wasn't something she would be able to do much longer, but there was no reason to go back for it now. The nurses would already be scrubbing and preparing the doctors for surgery. A group of corpsmen carried wounded from the jeeps and an ambulance lined up in front of Pre-Op, the distraction allowed Irene to duck in largely unnoticed. Radar took the opportunity to leave, running into the night to aid the others with unloading wounded. 

A familiar voice rang out the moment she opened the door. Major Margaret Houlihan was commanding her team of nurses from nearby, observing them as they scrubbed and calling out any problems she might have seen in their prep.

Irene snapped a quick salute. “Lt. Irene Foster, reporting for duty ma'am.”

“Lt. Foster,” Margaret beamed, “it’s so good to see you. How’s your father?”

“You know, same old war horse refusing to be put to pasture,” she laughed. “The only people who know my father is a General is you, Colonel Potter, and myself. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to be treated any differently because of who my father is.”

“Of course, Lieutenant. Well, you won't be on the roster until morning; you can return to your tent and get some rest. I'll start you in Post Op tomorrow,” Margaret said, returning her attention to her nurses.

“If I may, I'd like to help. If nothing else, I'll fetch supplies and I promise I'll stay out of the way.” Irene was pleased when the Major nodded her approval.

“Get scrubbed and help the other nurses prep the trays. Girls, this is Lt. Irene Foster. Show her where we keep the supplies. And get the lead out, we don't have all day,” Margaret snapped.

“Yes ma'am,” Irene said, striding to the sink where a woman was waiting.

“Hi, I'm Alice. Alice O'Neil,” the woman said, turning on the water for Irene. She was pretty. Young too. If Irene had to guess, the girl was maybe twenty, just a few years younger than herself. Curls of her auburn hair peeked from under her cap at the nape of her neck, and her green eyes were large and vibrant. A light dusting of fine freckles adorned her narrow nose and high cheek bones.

“You’re our third new girl this month,” Alice explained. “Shirley Grey and Sarah Smith got in a couple weeks ago. She’s around here somewhere. Poor Sarah. She’s one step from getting shipped off. Weak stomach.”

“I guess that’s a warning?”

“You bet. Anyway, that's Helen Williams, Shirley Grey, and Corra Jones. The other nurses are already in OR,” Alice said, pointing to the other girls who gave her quick nods of greeting while they donned scrubs and gloves. Irene would do her best to remember them.

Nurse Williams was in her early forties, with straight dark hair and pale blue eyes. She was a little on the heavy side, and instantly struck Irene as the mother hen type.

Nurse Grey was next, a beautiful blonde bombshell. One look at her and Irene wondered why the woman was a nurse and not a model. Shirley was tall and voluptuous, with great features and honey colored hair. Her eyes were catlike and blue as a summer sky. She seemed to be far more interested in bragging about her love life than in greeting Irene. Apparently, some man they called Hawkeye had broken off his affairs with a Nurse Davis in order to pursue her instead. This seemed to make her very happy, but Irene couldn’t help but notice the other girls were not so impressed.

Nurse Jones was last, and from the looks of it, she had no intention on sitting around and listening to Nurse Grey chatter. She was a little shorter than Grey, pear shaped with a long torso and an angular face that made her look like some sort of elf or fairy. Jones warmly greeted Irene, cutting her eyes back at Nurse Grey before exiting to the OR.

The operating room caught Irene off guard. She wasn't so naive to think there would be glistening trays and sparkling white floors, but she was still taken aback. The four tables were close together, and it was hard to imagine how the medical staff were able to get anything done.

Everything fell into place quickly; trays were set up, nurses at the ready, and the doctors were filing in. It all happened so fast it took time for Irene to acclimate to the pace. The other nurses and doctors got into their grooves and set to work.

Margaret motioned Irene over to an older man with white hair and glasses. He barely gave them a sideways look before taking up a scalpel. “Who’s this, Major?”

“This is our new nurse, sir. Lt. Irene Foster. Foster, this is the commanding officer, Colonel Potter.”

“I’d shake your hand but I’m a little busy. Swing by my office first thing in the morning,” Potter said.

“Yessir,” Irene said.

“That’s Captain Pierce on the far end,” Margaret pointed out quietly as she and Irene left Potter’s table. “Captain Hunnicutt is assisting him and Major Winchester is on the other end. We have a guest surgeon for now, but he’ll be leaving in the next few days. Now, I trust you know what you’re doing. Keep up and keep yourself together.” Her voice had a hint of warning to it, but Irene knew better than to be offended. Margaret had always taken her job seriously.

“I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will,” Margaret said before walking off to join Pierce. 

Despite conditions, the OR ran smoothly, except for some sarcastic banter at the expense of one Major Winchester, who as far as Irene gathered, was intent on taking his time no matter that there was a war on.

Irene worked stocking trays and fetching items requested by nurses at the tables, trying her best to both keep out of the way and be useful. Pierce and the guest surgeon finished and called in new patients and Potter was getting ready to close. Winchester on the other hand, showed no sign of finishing any time soon. His nurse, however, decided she was done. The woman fainted out of nowhere, her legs becoming like jelly right before she dropped to the floor.

“Klinger!” Potter yelled. An instant later a man in a lady’s nurse uniform, complete with heels and cape, rushed through the door. “Nurse Smith dropped cold. Get her outta here and get her going with some smelling salts.”

“Consider it done, oh fearless leader,” Klinger said, pushing past Irene who had frozen in place at his strange attire. He and another corpsman picked up the nurse and carried her away.

“Houlihan, assist Winchester,” Potter demanded. “And Winchester, keep it moving. We don’t have all day.”

“Yessir,” Margaret said from Pierce’s table. She pulled her gloves off as she approached Irene, hands up and ready for new ones. “Foster, assist Captain Pierce.”

Irene’s stomach jumped into her throat, forcing her to quickly swallow it.

“I can assist the Captain, Major,” Grey said from Potter’s table.

“You’ll say where you are, Lieutenant,” Margaret said. “Foster, get moving.”

“Yes ma'am,” Irene replied, taking her assigned place.

The Captain was up to his knuckles in a boy with severe chest wounds, and he didn't give Irene a second glance as she joined him, ready and waiting. Never had she seen anything like it. The soldier's injury was worse than anything she’d ever encountered. His flesh was pulled back to expose part of the rib cage. Bile burned her throat, but she was determined not to be like Nurse Smith. A part of her wanted to hide her face behind Pierce's arm until she was ready to view the wound again, but that wasn’t professional. Irene had no choice but to take a deep breath and try to keep her head. 

“Sponge,” Pierce said quietly, concentrating on finding any loose pieces of shrapnel. Irene handed him what he asked for and he sniffed, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion as he applied the sponge. “You smell that BJ?”

“Nope.”

“What's that smell?” Pierce asked a little more loudly.

“Perforated bowel?” Hunnicutt asked, peeking over his shoulder to Pierce's patient.

“No, I'm nowhere near his bowels. It smells sweet like...” Pierce took a few more deep breaths, his fingers moving ceaselessly in the solder's chest, preparing to close.

“Perfume?” Potter offered.

“Are one of you nurses wearing perfume?” Margaret raged from across the room. “The use of perfume in the OR is strictly prohibited.”

The nurses shuffled about, muttering their “No ma'ams” until Pierce interjected.

“Not like perfume, just not like blood and sweat.” He tossed a piece of metal into the pan that Irene offered to him. He did a double take when he glanced at her. “Those eyes. I don't recognize those eyes, and I know every nurses’ eyes in the whole compound, open and closed.” He joked, grinning behind his mask like a Cheshire cat.

“That's true, Hawkeye is the best optometrist in Korea,” Hunnicutt added.

Ah, so this was Hawkeye. As the doctor leaned in toward Irene to get a gentle whiff of her, she instantly realized why the other nurses liked him so much. A girl could swim in his sparkling blue eyes. Or more likely, drown.

“You must be the new nurse I ordered. Come to my tent after surgery and I'll sign your shipping papers,” Hawkeye said.

“Colonel!” Margaret protested, in one word, demanding their leader put an end to Pierce’s shenanigans. Potter sighed and stepped in.

“That's enough Pierce. Leave the poor girl alone would'ya?”

Hawkeye glanced at Margaret, who was looking quite pleased with herself. The doctor had little choice but to give up and return to his work.

A few more times over the night he started up with his incessant flirting; commenting on everything from her eyelashes to her hands only to be shut down by Margaret or Potter. Irene wasn’t used to being complimented in such a fashion but the more he said the more uncomfortable she became, especially once she realized Nurse Grey was staring her down from Potter’s table.

The night was a long one, and ten hours later the staff was exhausted and retreating to their tents for some much-deserved rest. Irene dumped her scrubs in the bin, half tempted to lay down on the bench and sleep there. Even after all her time as a nurse in the states, nothing could have prepared her for the pressures of the 4077's operating room.

Out into the predawn chill Irene trudged, hands jammed under her arms for warmth. Her legs refused to move any faster than a walk, her feet aching with every step.

“What are you doing without a coat?”

Irene turned her head to the voice, so see Hawkeye trotting up beside her, hands shoved deep in his pockets. His smile was tired but genuine, prompting a grin from Irene.

“It wasn't so cold when I left last night,” she replied. “I won’t forget it next time.”

“Care to join me for breakfast in a few hours? You might have to have your stomach pumped after but lucky for you I'm a doctor.”

“No thanks, I'll pass.” She grimaced a little, thoughts shifting uncomfortably to the gory scenes from their meatball surgery.

“How about you let me buy you a drink at my place before you head back to your tent? It'll really warm you up. And if the drink doesn’t work, maybe I can help,” he suggested playfully. Irene was not impressed, but she was amused.

“Maybe next time Captain. To the drink that is.”

“Captain?” he said in mock disgust. “That's low, calling a man by his rank. What do you think this is, the Army?”

“If this isn't the Army, why is there so much olive drab?”

“Olive drab? Huh….I thought I had just gone color blind.” He squinted at a tent as they passed.

Irene shook her head and chuckled. “You're impossible Captain.”

“Hawkeye,” he corrected.

“Oh, I know your name. Your reputation precedes you.”

“Please, call me Hawkeye,” he said, throwing an arm up to block her from the tent door.

“Fine. Hawkeye,” she sighed.

“This is the part where you tell me your name. Actually, that part was way back there, but you missed your cue,” Hawk said, pointing aimlessly in the direction they had come from.

“Where's the fun at that?” Irene responded, ducking under his arm and into the shelter of the A tent, where the girls were huddles around the door, giggling at Hawkeye's failed endeavor. Irene counted herself lucky that the faces she was met with didn’t include Shirley Grey. Thank God for small favors.

* * *

Outside, Hawkeye leaned on the post by the door, dazed and confused. It took a minute for him to make himself move. It wasn't unusual for a nurse to turn him down, but he didn't recall one that refused to even give him her name. He still couldn't decide if she was playing hard to get or just playing. Either way, he was determined to figure it out.

In the Swamp, Winchester was already asleep, his boots lined up perfectly at the end of his cot. BJ peered over the top of his blanket when he heard the door open. Without any expression, Hawkeye walked to the heater, grabbed the pot of day-old coffee and dumped it into Winchester’s boots.

“I guess the new nurse didn't want to play doctor?” BJ snickered quietly.

“No,” Hawkeye replied, pouring himself a drink before perching in his favorite chair. He was more than exhausted but he was recounting their time in the OR, trying to think about if he heard her name spoken at some point. As far as he could remember, she had just been addressed as 'nurse'. “She wouldn't even tell me her name,” he sipped his gin and set it aside.

“Eh, she'll come around. Not like she can hide her name forever. Besides, don't you have a date with Nurse Grey later?”

“Yeah, Shirley,” Hawk nodded slowly, grinning at the thought of the blonde. “Great girl. I thought we’d start with a drink at Rosie’s and then take a little trip to the mine field for tango lessons.”

The moment of excitement was quick to pass. The mischievous sparkle faded from his eyes as he focused on some far-off place beyond the floor, his smile fading when he pressed the martini glass to his lips. Wind from the south brought forth the scent from Sophie's stable but Hawkeye only smelled the fresh aroma of the mystery nurse.

“Just get some sleep Hawk. The duty roster’ll be up in a few hours. You can look her up then.”

“Alright,” Hawkeye grumbled, rolling from his chair onto his cot. He was asleep before he could even kick off his boots. Deep in his slumber, surrounded by the scratching of rats, the tramping of heavy boots, and the covered in blood stained clothes, Hawkeye dreamt of chasing the new nurse weightlessly through a field of wildflowers.

* * *

Across camp, Irene unpacked her few belongings while the other nurses in her tent changed their clothes. They were all tired but giggling, amused by Hawkeye’s rejection.

Corra plopped down on a bottom bunk, propping her head up with her hand. “It’s a good thing you turned him down. Shirley’s had her sights on him since she got here two weeks ago. You heard her talking about him earlier. She wouldn’t be happy if she thought you were interested.”

“Yeah, I heard she’s the jealous type,” Alice said, climbing onto the bunk above Corra. “That girl, Sarah, that came here with her, says Shirley was threatening another nurse over a Major. That’s why she had to be transferred.”

“That’s just a rumor Alice,” Helen reminded the young girl. “We don’t know if any of that is true.”

Irene felt she had pegged Helen right as a mother hen. It was nice though; to have a motherly figure instead of strict military all the time.

Alice opened her mouth to speak but a knock at the door interrupted her. Helen opened the door to see Shirley Grey standing on the other side, a smile plastered on her beautiful face. They exchanged a greeting and Helen moved aside to let her in.

“I thought I would stop by and welcome the new girl,” Shirley stated, giving Irene a quick once over. “I’m pretty new myself. Only been here a couple of weeks so, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. My door is always open.”

“Well, thank you,” Irene answered cautiously.

“Anytime,” Shirley added, an awkward silence following. “I’m sure you’re tired so I’ll get out of here.” She turned to leave, pausing at the door to offer another word. “Oh. Don’t mind Hawkeye. He loves to joke, but he is with me, and he is loyal.”new

Alice hid a snicker.

“I’m not interested in Captain Pierce,” Irene stated flatly, tossing her bag into the bottom of the standup locker. “I’m here to work, do my duty, and hopefully go home again. I have no interest in entertaining a handsy doctor and his male urges.”

Shirley’s eyes blazed at the word “handsy”. Her fist tightened on the door, but she managed to hold her tongue, flashing another fake smile. “So you say. But I did see you walking with him across the camp. I just wanted you to know he’s taken before you start reading into his jokes too much.” The smile couldn’t sugar coat the venom in her tone.

“Lay off Shirley, the girl turned him down,” Helen interjected, standing up perfectly into her mother hen role. She stood between Shirley and Irene; hands placed firmly on her hips.

“Turned him down?” Shirley scoffed. “He was just being polite. As if I would think he would come onto her.” She gestured to Irene with a casual flick of her wrist.

Irene’s face burned. “Listen here you—,” she stepped, but Helen stuck out a meaty arm and barred her. There was nothing Irene wanted more than to lay the tall blonde out on her back.

“I suggest you leave, Nurse Grey,” Helen said, puffing up her chest.

Once the door slammed behind Shirley, Helen relaxed. “You’ve got quite a temper, Foster.”

Alice and Corra watched on silently.

“We don’t much like Shirley, but we have to put up with her. May as well hold your tongue and keep things civil,” Helen sighed. She didn’t seem angry, which was a relief. Irene was already feeling ashamed that she had lost her cool so quickly.

“Yes. You’re right,” Irene nodded, calming down before climbing up into the bunk above Helen. The sun would be rising very soon and all she cared to do was sleep. Never had any bed felt so good to her exhausted body. As she closed her eyes and began to drift off she couldn’t help but wonder; what was so great about Captain Hawkeye Pierce?


	2. In The Doghouse

**2**

**In The Doghouse**

Hawk woke from his sweet dreams to the sound of some drunk soldier singing a love song too loudly as he stumbled back to his tent. At first his heart pounded loudly in his ears from being startled awake but once he realized he was alive and not being bombarded with mortar rounds he relaxed. The love song, though badly sung, tugged at his memory. Visions of the ones he’d lost before either to the war or to himself or to another man with better prospects crossed his mind, even after the drunkard’s voice faded into the darkness of night.

Eventually his thoughts turned to the nameless nurse, lingering too long on the way the OR’s lights cast shadows of her lashes on her cheeks and the sweet smell of her. He stared at the ceiling of the tent, imagining how her lips must taste and how soft her skin must feel; free of calluses from hard work or dried out by constant scrubbing.

Wind whipped around the tent, slapping the canvas against wooden poles and he rolled over, pulling his blankets tight around his shoulders. Sleep would be the only thing that would keep him from thinking about how cold it was getting at night. Winter was trying to sneak up on them, but it wasn’t being quiet about its approach.

Hawkeye closed his eyes and tried to push away the thought of the mystery nurse, annoyed at himself for being so doggedly stubborn about her. Had she told him her name would he be wide awake in the middle of the night trying to dig through the ten hours in the OR for a hint?

He tossed and turned till dawn, when the smell of powdered eggs and yesterday’s bacon brought him to his feet. He peered out the door, the compound quiet in the early morning chill. Only a few nurses changing shifts dragged across the road, back to the nurses’ tents for the day and their chance at sleep.

He slipped on his bathrobe and boots before jogging to the bulletin board, only for his hopes to be dashed when he saw her name scribbled out in black ink. Only her last name was visible. Foster. Well, it was a start. How had she managed to get past the Swamp without him noticing? Unless she had help.

As if on cue Radar walked out of the office with a handful of papers, nearly jumping out of his skin at the sight of Hawkeye. “Jeeze Hawk, you almost gave me a heart attack. What’re you doing up this early?”

“Hey, did you catch the name of that nurse who came in last night?”

“Who? Oh, Lt. Foster?”

“I know her last name, what’s her first name?”

“I can’t tell you that, sir.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because she told me not to.”

“Radar, if you don’t tell me her name, I’ll—”

“Gee, Hawk, why don’t you go ask her yourself?” Radar huffed, pointing toward the mess tent where Foster was walking in with two other nurses.

Hawkeye didn’t say goodbye to Radar, but made a beeline to the mess tent, grabbed a tray and sidled up next to Foster in line. He couldn’t help but beam down at her, but she didn’t even give him a sidelong glance.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said.

“It’s the only restaurant in town; we’re bound to bump into each other eventually,” she smiled, turning her back on him for toast.

“Maybe we can bump into each other more often?”

She laughed. “Captain, you really are impossible.”

“Hawkeye,” he corrected. “And I’d like to think of it as more… determined.”

“Whatever floats your boat. Goodbye, Captain.”

Hawkeye watched as she joined a table full of giggling nurses, their eyes locked on him. He quickly got his breakfast and forced his way between her and Alice, who protested but moved anyway, sliding down with a huff.

“What would it take for you to leave us in peace?” Foster said, her tone joking but he caught a hint of annoyance.

“Your name. Just tell me your name and I’ll fly back to the Swamp where I belong.”

“Why is my name so important?”

“How’ll I know what to call you?”

“Lt. Foster works just fine.”

The nurses stifled their giggles and Foster sipped her coffee; pink lips curved into a sly grin. He caught himself staring a little too long at her lips and averted his eyes.

“Besides,” she said, holding the mug delicately between her fingertips, “this should be a lesson to you. Don’t stand between a cold nurse and a warm cot.”

“If a warm cot was what you were after, the Swamp was much closer to the OR than the nurses’ tent.”

Foster rolled her eyes. “You’re too much, Captain.”

“And what’s it gonna take to get you to call me Hawkeye?”

“I don’t think we’re on a first name basis yet,” she said, picking up her tray. “If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I’m due in Colonel Potter’s office.”

And like that she was gone, and he was stuck at the end of the bench with a gaggle of tittering nurses.

* * *

Hawkeye paced across the worn floor of the Swamp, tossing a ball and muttered to himself, not bothering to stop when BJ came in and flopped down on his cot with a loud sigh.

“Ya know, as long as I’ve been here, you’d think I’d be used to working like this.” When Hawkeye didn’t reply, BJ sat up, propping on his elbows to watch his friend pace. “You’re seriously this worked up over a nurse’s name?”

“Dammit Beej, I’ve asked everyone in camp, and she’s gotten to all of them before me,” he said, tossing the ball into a corner.

“I really don’t get why it’s such a big deal. You have Nurse Grey; isn’t that enough?”

Hawkeye dropped to his cot and ran his fingers through his hair. BJ was right. Shirley Grey was the tallest drink of water he’d seen in months. She was kind, beautiful, and able to magically whip up food that beat the mess tent’s best any day. Since they’d been… well, whatever they were, she’d been nothing but perfect for him. She was compassionate with her patients, a great dancer, a wonderful lover, and an overall thoughtful woman. She was… she was… maybe too good.

He slapped his knees and stood up, leaving the thought there it lay. “You know what, you’re right,” he said, looking at himself in the mirror and smoothing his hair. “It’s no big deal. It’s just one little nurse.”

BJ raised a brow at him and sank back into his cot. “Well, I think I’ve been awake long enough. Now young man, I expect you to bring the car back in one piece or you’re grounded.”

“Yes dad,” Hawkeye said. He changed into clean clothes and stepped out into the compound. Some flowers Winchester had planted a few months before were still clinging to life by the walkway outside their door and Hawk helped himself to the better-looking ones before plastering on a smile and heading for the nurses’ tents.

The sun was just beginning to set, the last rays shining over the top of the mountains, turning the clouds brilliant red. Radar and some of the other corpsmen were playing football in front of the line of tents. Klinger was talking to a nurse about her new kimono, his heels sinking into the mud with every step. Just another evening in paradise.

Hawkeye knocked on the door of B tent and Shirley called for him to enter. Grinning ear to ear he let himself in. She sat at a dressing table that had been pushed into a corner and was covered in items belonging to all the women who lived there. Deep red lipstick slid over her luscious lips and he imagined nibbling on them. She capped the lipstick and looked at herself in the mirror. She used a pinkie to clean up the lines and his imagination ran wild with thoughts of holding her close, kissing her lips.

Then _she_ popped into his head. Lt. Foster and her pretty pink lips smirking slyly into her coffee cup at breakfast.

“I’m almost ready, darling,” Shirley said, fixing her hair.

It snapped him back to reality. “Yeah, sure.”

“You okay?”

Hawkeye cleared the space between them in a couple of steps. “I was just struck by your beauty,” he said as he knelt behind her and nuzzling her neck.

“Don’t be silly,” she giggled, shrugging him off. “And be patient. We have all night.”

“Can’t I get a little appetizer?” he asked, kissing her ear.

“You can have desert _after_ dinner,” she said, leaning into him. She let him work his way to her shoulder before she turned around to him and put her arms around his neck. “Patience.”

“I’m no good at that. Maybe we can skip dinner?”

“Not a chance, cowboy,” she kissed his nose and pushed him away.

Hawkeye groaned and stepped back, laying the flowers on her pillow. She finished primping before taking his arm and letting him lead her toward Rosie’s. A few soldiers and other doctors stole glances at her when they passed. Shirley pretended not to notice but Hawk couldn’t help but stand a little straighter. There wasn’t a man in camp who didn’t want to be in his shoes.

“After you,” he said, opening the door for her.

Shirley took a seat at a table nearby and Hawk joined her, his back to the wall. In the opposite corner, sitting with Alice, was Lt. Foster, the yet unnamed nurse. She was too caught up in her drink and conversation to notice him.

“Hawkeye?” Shirley tapped his hand and he looked back at her. “You seem really distracted tonight.”

“Sorry. Thinking about something that happened in OR last night.”

Her smile faltered. She crossed her arms on the table and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Oh? Well, why don’t you tell me what it is that’s got you a million miles away?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He shook his head and ordered them drinks from Rosie as she made her rounds.

“I can’t think of anything notable that happened last night,” Shirley pressed.

Hawkeye downed his beer in a few gulps, panicking over something to say. Asking about another nurse was sure to start an argument; he’d rarely met a girl who didn’t take it personally. He slammed the empty bottle down and signaled Rosie for another.

“You keep that up and you’ll be no good for dessert,” Shirley said, propping her chin on her hand. Her eyes burned into his and he fought to hold her gaze and not glance in Foster’s direction.

“Don’t you worry,” he said, taking her other hand. “Dessert’s my favorite course.” He kissed her fingertips and she bit her lip.

“Get a room,” Alice laughed, stopping at their table on her way out. Foster stood beside her, smiling broadly. They pair of them didn’t wait for a reply, they left as quickly as they came but boy did they go.

Hawkeye let his gaze linger a little too long on Foster’s backside and Shirley smacked his hand.

“I think your eyes are getting too big for your stomach,” she said flatly.

“No, no, I’m sorry it’s—”

“I’m suddenly not feeling hungry.” Shirley stormed out into the night, leaving Hawkeye alone.

“Trouble in paradise?” Winchester asked, helping himself to Shirley’s seat.

Hawkeyes glared at him. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I believe I’m entitled after when you did to my boots. And I know it was you, Pierce. Only you would have the audacity to ruin a man’s boots with the sludge you call coffee.”

“Get Radar to trade some ham for new ones, I told you I’m not in the mood.”

Winchester steepled his hand over his belly and gave Hawkeye a tightlipped grin. “As much as I enjoy your distress, I don’t enjoy your incessant pacing, talking in your sleep, and of course, ruining my boots with that swill you cretins call coffee. What seems to be the problem, Pierce?”

“Why do people keep asking me that?”

“I hear you’ve been asking around about a Lt. Foster.”

“She won’t tell me her name.”

“That’s all?” Winchester chuckled.

“What do you know?”

“Plenty. I gave her a physical just this morning.”

Hawkeye slapped his hand on the table. “Dammit, I wanted to do her physical.”

“Steady, Pierce. Don’t you think you’ve had your hand on enough nurses around here?”

“All I want is her name.”

“I’d tell you but…” his voice trailed.

“Let me guess, there’s nothing in it for you. Forget it, Charles, I’ll find some other way.”

“I want new boots.”

“That’s it?” Hawkeye was more than a little skeptical. Getting them was easier now than the run around he’d gotten when he needed them. Radar could have them traded for in a matter of hours.

“Of course.”

“Consider it done. So tell me. What’s her name?’

Winchester grinned, waited, and Hawk thought he might punch him in the mouth if he kept up with that smug expression.

“Dammit Charles, tell me.”

“Her name, is Irene.”

“Irene…. Irene Foster.” Hawkeye leaned back in his chair, rolling the name around on his tongue. Somehow, he felt he’d won, but the win had come with a price. Shirley was angry and he was missing dessert with the sweetest treat in camp. He downed another beer and wondered if the name was worth it in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to update on Sundays instead of Wednesdays. Thoughts?


	3. Painting the Laundry Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I'm no good at waiting. I'll just upload it every few days. Or once a day. Why is this so difficult????

**3**

**Painting The Laundry Red**

The sound of choppers and scrambling of nurses woke Irene with a start. At first, she didn’t know where she was, but the previous day’s events came trickling back, as well as the drinks she’d had the night before.

“How’re you feeling,” Alice giggled.

“I’ve seen better days,” Irene said, wincing when she swung her legs over the side of the bunk. “I feel like my head’s in a vice.”

“You’ll find half the camp feels the same way. C’mon, let’s go.”

Irene hopped down, took a couple of aspirin, then dressed and ran across the compound toward pre-op. Distracted by a pebble in her boot she ran right into Hawkeye, nearly knocking both of them in the mud. He looked at her dazed, then flashed her a charming smile.

“Ahh, decided to take me up on that offer to run into one another? Too bad we both have somewhere to be.”

“Cool your jets, Captain,” she shielded her eyes from the sun. “And move slowly if you don’t mind.”

“One of Rosie’s bombs get ya?” he asked, opening the door for her.

“She makes ‘em with a little more gun powder than I’m used to.”

Hawkeye laughed and took his place at the sinks, where Shirley helped him scrub, her eyes like daggers at Irene. She didn’t speak to Hawkeye, and he stumbled over his words to talk to her. There was a tension between them that was palpable, even with the hangover, but Irene wasn’t going to get involved. She stayed back, kept her distance, and let Shirley and Hawkeye finish before stepping up to the sinks.

Alice took a place beside her, whistling quietly to herself. Irene leaned in a little so the others couldn’t hear.

“Things are a little tense around here,” she said, jerking her head toward the door that separated them from the OR.

“Oh, didn’t you hear? Right after we left Rosie’s last night, Shirley left in a huff. A girl in the other tent said she overheard Shirley talking to herself about it. Apparently, Hawkeye did what Hawkeye does best and got a good look at your backside when you were leaving the bar.”

“What?” Irene’s face burned. “No wonder she’s giving me a death glare today.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Alice shrugged, pulling gloves onto her cleaned hands. “Hawk’s known for nurse hopping. If it wasn’t you last night, I’d be someone else today.”

“I really don’t want to get in the way of their relationship.”

“That relationship is a joke at best. Shirley’s got herself convinced he’s head over heels for her. Even said they’re going to get married after the war. There’s only been one girl I’ve ever heard him say he was going to marry, and she turned him down flat. I felt bad for him, but it was karma if I’ve ever seen it.”

“Get moving ladies,” Margaret barked when they entered the OR.

Irene winced, the headache shooting pain through her eyes. Between the bright lights of the OR and Margaret’s yelling, she didn’t know how she’d make it through the shift.

Shirley had taken a place at Hawkeye’s table and Irene passed quickly, afraid to even glance in their direction. She got halfway to Winchester’s table when Margaret stopped her.

“Nurse Grey assist Major Winchester. Foster, I want you with Pierce.”

“We have tons of wounded incoming Major,” Shirley protested. “The Captain and I already work well together; I think it’d be better if we stayed together.”

“I don’t recall asking your opinion, Lieutenant,” Margaret turned her head slowly at Shirley and Irene shrank. She’d seen Margaret angry several times and had been lucky enough to never be in her line of fire. Frankly, she didn’t understand why anyone would put themselves in that position. “Now, assist Major Winchester or I’ll put you on report.”

Shirley and Margaret locked eyes but Shirley gave in first. “Yes ma’am,” she replied, walking right past Irene without looking at her. Somehow, she could feel the cold shoulder Shirley was giving her and she made a move toward Hawkeye before Margaret decided she needed a new punching bag.

Hawkeye leaned down so Irene could tie his mask and he seemed to enjoy it a bit too much when she reached around behind his head. His eyes didn’t leave her face and her cheeks burned.

“You’re blushing, Irene,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear. His eyes sparkled and although half his face was covered by a mask, she could tell his smile only widened.

“Who ruined my fun?” she asked, happy to break his gaze.

“If I tell you do you promise to make their life miserable?”

“It doesn’t matter. You were bound to find out eventually.”

“You’re really sucking the fun out of this,” he teased.

Klinger and another corpsman brought in a young boy and laid him on the table and the levity of the moment was gone. Hawkeye’s smile faded and Irene looked away from the solider for a split second and swallowed a little more loudly than she intended.

“You alright?” Hawk asked quietly.

“Of course, doctor.”

He glanced at her, then began the operation. Irene tried not to look at the soldier’s face, even when Hawkeye pointed out how young he was. Somehow, she felt it would be easier if something happened. If they lost him on the table…

It didn’t take long for the OR to become the well-oiled machine it had the night before. Doctors and nurses worked together with very few incidents and Hawkeye was patient with her the couple of times she made an error. The pacing was much faster than what she was used to and although he gently corrected her, it didn’t help the burning embarrassment she felt when it happened.

Hawkeye didn’t seem to mind. He pressed onward for hours, fixing up one man after another: removing countless shards of shrapnel and spouting off just as many jokes and jabs at Winchester. One thing he didn’t seem to notice, however, was Shirley’s glances. But Irene didn’t miss them. She felt Shirley’s eyes on her and at first it was unsettling, but the longer they went, the less Irene noticed.

Instead, her attention shifted to the pain in her feet, the stiffness in her joints. Standing under the lamps, crowded by other nurses and doctors, the room was far too warm to be comfortable. Every once in awhile, someone would dab the sweat from her or Hawkeye, and at one point Radar brought them juice.

Irene wasn’t sure how many hours had passed when the last man was taken away. Out of exhaustion and fatigue, she’s started preparing for the next soldier when Hawkeye put a hand over hers.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “We’re done now.”

“I didn’t think it would ever end.”

“It gets that way sometimes. You okay?”

She hesitated, her eyes dropping to the blood that had coated the floor and soaked into her boots. “I’m fine,” she said at last, forcing herself to look up at him but something in his expression told her he understood that it was a lie.

He squeezed her upper arm. “It never gets easier, but –” he didn’t finish what he was saying, he only gave a tight-lipped smile. “Never mind. Go get some sleep.”

Was he trying to tell he she’d get used to it? The thought was crippling. Was he used to it?

Irene was too tired to ask. She nodded and stripped off her gloves. The doctors filed out and the nurses began to follow when Margaret demanded they stop and clear their areas before they left, reminding them of their duties.

Even Irene had to stifle a groan as she turned to do as she was ordered. The nurses made quick work of their cleaning while corpsmen mopped the floor. The smell of blood and alcohol stirred in the air and Irene felt nauseous. She craved fresh air.

The mid-afternoon sun beat down on her face; warming her despite the cool breeze that was easing in. By nightfall, it would be chilly again and the morning would bring frost.

None of that concerned Irene at the moment. She was only intent on getting a shower before bedding down for the night. There would be no waiting for the sun to set, no late night at Rosie’s. Her body was screaming at her for the abuse of standing for so long and she knew she’d have a hard time walking the next day.

After a quick shower, she shuffled back to A tent, drying her hair with a towel as she went. The compound was relatively quiet as people slept off the day’s events. She couldn’t help but peek toward the Swamp where the tent sides had been pulled up in the heat of the day. Winchester sat at his desk, pen in hand, rubbing his eyes. BJ and Hawkeye had been reduced to heaps of bloodied scrubs on their beds, the pair of them too tired to bother showering. She guessed they’d passed out while the nurses and corpsmen cleaned OR.

Alice and Helen sat on their cots, their hair in rollers. Corra was absent.

“I’ll never understand why you bother with rollers,” Alice sighed, glancing up from painting her fingernails to look at Helen, who glared back from her magazine. “Your hair’s so straight, it never stays.”

“It looks nice for a little while and that’s good enough for me,” Helen said.

“I think I’ll get Hawk to paint my toenails later,” Alice mused, tilting her head as she stared down at her feet.

“You’re really trying to stir Shirley up, aren’t you?”

“Hawk used to paint lots of the girl’s toes until Shirley came around. He’s good at it. No reason she should hog him all to herself.”

“Ah, you have a crush on him,” Helen grinned.

“Not a chance,” Alice laughed. “I just want my toes to look nice is all and…”

“And what?”

“And I might have a date tonight.”

Irene changed her clothes and listened to the women talk on about a soldier that was passing through. Her eyes were so heavy she struggled to get her pajamas on before climbing into the top bunk.

“You want to go with me later, Irene?” Alice asked.

“Hm? Go where?”

“To the swamp. Hawkeye’s great at painting toenails. I’m sure he’d love to do yours,” she giggled.

Irene laughed and shook her head. “Not a chance. He’s already too interested for my taste and I really don’t want to get caught up in drama between him and Shirley.”

“Aww, party pooper. That’s half the point is to stir up trouble.”

“You’re terrible,” Helen said, but Irene caught the humor in her voice.

“Go with me later and I’ll owe you one. I don’t want to go by myself.”

“Alright, alright,” Irene yawned. “But if he gets handsy, I’m out.”

Corra burst through the door, slamming it closed behind her and bolting it. Irene nearly jumped out of her skin and sat up in bed to see what was going on as Alice cried out about spilled nail polish. Corra rubbed her sweaty palms on her pants, staring at the door as she backed away.

“What’s gotten into you?” Helen asked.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Corra said, her voice shaking. “I don’t believe it.”

“Spit it out, girl.”

Corra turned to them and rubbed her hands on her elbows. “After we got done cleaning up Shirley went to the Swamp to talk to Hawkeye. I don’t know what happened but a couple minutes later she came back and… well she was acting like everything was fine, but I saw her go out back and she…”

“She what?” Alice pressed; her tone harsh as she cleaned up the nail polish that had now stained a puddle of pink onto her quilt.

“I saw her stabbing a laundry sack out back.”

“What?” Alice stopped dead and looked at Corra who had started to pace.

Helen stood and put an arm around the younger woman, bracing her tightly. “Are you sure?”

“Very,” Corra said. “She had a scalpel and was slicing the thing to shreds.”

“I told you she was loony,” Alice said to Helen.

“I wonder what’s got her so riled up?” Helen said, ignoring Alice.

“Irene, that’s what.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Hawkeye’s been giving her a lot of attention. I don’t think Shirley likes it. I mean, you saw how she acted yesterday. Irene hadn’t even been in camp a whole day and Shirley was in here with passive-aggressive threats.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Irene said.

“I know you didn’t,” Alice replied, “the girl’s nuts.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Corra should tell Major Houlihan what she saw,” Helen said. “If Shirley’s acting like that, it could get worse.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Corra said. “I got lucky Shirley didn’t see me. If I tell Houlihan and Shirley isn’t transferred out, she’ll eventually figure out it was me.”

“Well I’m not going to let that walking nut case get in my way,” Alice said. “I’m going to carry on business as usual and if she messes with me, I’ll flatten her.”

“Alright, girls, settle down,” Helen said. “Get some rest, Corra. Maybe you’ll change your mind once you calm down.”

“Fat chance,” Corra grumbled as she lay down on the bunk below Alice.

Helen turned out the light, plunging them into darkness. Irene stared at the ceiling of the tent, every sound outside setting her on edge. What kind of a disaster had she wandered into?

* * *

“Ah, Nurse O’Neil visiting me in my own tent, have I died and gone to heaven?” Hawk smiled, opening the door for the pretty redhead to enter. He wasn’t expecting who followed. “And Nurse Foster? Now I know I’m in heaven.”

“Closer to dead,” Irene smirked.

“What can I do for you ladies?”

“I was hoping you’d be willing to paint our toes for us. You’re the best in town.” Alice helped herself to a martini.

“Who are the lucky guys?”

“No one you know,” Alice giggled. “He’s a soldier passing through on the way to the line.”

“Busy girl.”

“Just doing my job for the American dream.”

Hawkeye laughed and shook his head, motioning Alice to sit in his chair while he took a seat on his cot. She stripped off her boots and socks, placing one in Hawkeye’s lap. Irene stood nearby the heater and Hawk glanced at her as he dipped the brush in the bottle of red polish.

“Have a seat. I don’t bite.” He patted the bed beside him and Irene hesitated before sitting closer to the end of the cot and away from him. How he’d hoped she’d sit closer so he could breathe in her wonderful, flowery scent. “What about you? Planning on giving a young man something to go to war for?”

“No, I figure the draft board should have told him why he’s here.”

“They didn’t tell me. I still don’t know why we’re here.”

“Ah, is that why you’re such a flirt? Trying to give the nurses something to go to war for? Or maybe you’re looking for a reason yourself?” Irene sat back and smirked, cocking her head while awaiting his answer.

“Easy, tiger,” Alice giggled. “What about you, Hawk? You have any special plans tonight?”

“Nah, soldiers passing through aren’t my type.”

“So, nothing planned for Shirley?”

Hawkeye’s smile didn’t break but his shoulders tensed. “If you go on a date every night it’s not very special. I like to keep them on their toes. Speaking of which, yours are done.” He blew on the paint then sat up.

“Your turn Irene,” Alice said careful not to touch the fresh polish as she walked over to BJ’s bed.

“Oh, that’s alright. Red’s not really my color.”

He should have known she’d back out at the last minute and with Alice no longer occupying his chair, Irene took the opportunity to put herself in it. Away from him again. He cursed internally but remained cordial during their short visit.

Alice seemed more willing to stay around than Irene did. Hawk didn’t miss the way she fidgeted with a loose string on her pants or the way every little noise took her attention away from him to look at the door. As to what was making her so nervous, he could only guess. Shirley wouldn’t have said anything to her about him getting caught staring a little too long. Would she?

“We should get going,” Alice said, slipping on her socks and boots. “Thanks Hawk. I owe you one.”

“Or ten.”

Alice slapped his shoulder as she passed. “That’s the worst I’ve heard yet.”

“Goodnight Alice,” he called after her. “Goodnight Irene.”

Alice waved but Irene stopped in the door, turning only slightly before saying, “Goodnight Captain.”

Then she was gone. He watched them through the mesh side of the tent, listened to the crunch of their boots on the road, the giddy sound of their laughter until it faded entirely before he laid down in his cot. The smell of fingernail polish was thick in the tent and he sighed. Missed the smell of flowers again.

* * *

A cold wind stirred Hawkeye before dawn. The compound was dead silent, not even the chirp of crickets to break the ringing in his ears. He blinked and looked around the tent. BJ was sleeping with his back to him. Winchester was asleep at his desk, lamp still on over a half-written letter. How long had he been asleep?

He laid down again, pulling the blankets up around his ears and hugging himself tight. They’d have to start letting the tent flaps down at night. It was getting too cold in the evenings to leave them open, but he didn’t have the energy to bother.

His thoughts drifted lazily between sleeping and waking, on occasion making their way to the OR and Irene Foster standing so close he could feel the warmth of her. She’d sat on the end of his cot just yesterday. He snorted a little laugh. No red paint for her. He had to agree. Pink might be better. Ah, yes… a nice sweet pink. Hawk rubbed his face.

He’d gotten himself in deep with Shirley over Irene and he couldn’t seem to dig himself out. It wasn’t uncommon for him to chase a skirt or two, but it was uncommon for him to want to preserve a woman; to keep one untouched by the ravages of war. He’d nearly told Irene she’d get used to the chaos, the bloodshed, but the thought affected him in a strange way. Even after being in Korea as long as he had, he’d not gotten used to it and he hoped he never would.

But he couldn’t deny that it had changed him. Every day he slogged through mud and guts brought him a little closer to the edge of sanity. Sometimes he looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the gray-haired man he saw. This place was aging him, as if the land itself was sucking every ounce of youth from him one day at a time. He didn’t want that for anyone, but the realization struck him extra hard with Irene. But why?

There wasn’t a reason. Except that she was… well, she was a flower in a minefield. He grunted to himself and rolled over in his cot. What made her any different than the others? He couldn’t find an answer.


	4. Khaki Kimono

**4**

**Khaki Kimono**

Morning came and Irene woke her with a start, a nightmare fading as soon as her eyes snapped open. She couldn’t remember the details. All she knew was that her heart was racing, and tears streaked her cheeks.

Luckily, she hadn’t woken any of the other girls and was able to lay back down after a few minutes to regain her bearings. Korea. She was in Korea. It sounded so strange in her head. She felt like she was a kid again; spending the night with a friend only to wake long before they did. The camp was quiet and the tent nearly pitch dark. It might be hours before anyone got up for the day.

She laid back down and stared up at the canvas a few feet over her head. Wind rustled the tent flaps but it was still warm enough inside to keep the chill away. Helen had gone on and on about the last winter they’d had and warned Irene and the other newer girls to get their families to send them plenty of warm clothes ahead of time. Apparently, the winters were brutal.

Irene rolled onto her side and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, curling into their warmth when a thought crossed her mind, an offer from a handsome doctor for a warm cot. _Don’t go there_ , she thought, rolling onto her other side as if doing so might shake the thought loose.

But it didn’t.

She closed her eyes and tried to drift off again, only when she did all she saw behind her eyelids was torn flesh, ragged pieces of metal, and puddles of blood beneath her feet. And blue eyes. Kind, gentle, blue eyes. As much as she fought it she simply couldn’t get the memory of him to jar loose. It was better than remembering the mutilations she’d witnessed. So, she let her mind wander and ease into sleep, led by a doctor with a silver tongue.

* * *

The mess tent bustled at lunch, but the crowd was slow to file in. Irene had come early, finding a table in the corner where she could read and eat. Corra had let her borrow a book but it must not have been up Irene’s alley because she found herself rereading whole sections over. She couldn’t seem to focus. Not on the book, or on her food.

“Hey there.”

Irene turned to the voice to see BJ standing beside the table.

“Hi.”

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing toward the bench.

“It’s all yours,” she replied, closing the book and sliding it away.

BJ sat down with his tray, then extended a hand. “We haven’t had a formal introduction. I’m BJ Hunnicutt.”

“Irene Foster,” she replied, shaking his hand. He was a handsome man with light brown hair, warm eyes, and a smile to match. There was something about him that was calming. Peaceful even.

“How’s Korea treating you so far? Hopefully it’s been better than lunch” he said, salting a slab of ham.

“I wish I could say it’s not what I expected, but I didn’t know what to expect. This is my first war.”

“Mine too,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not impressed, and I’ll definitely skip out on the next one.”

“Aw, and miss out on all this fun, sun, and great food?”

“I’d rather eat socks,” BJ muttered, picking at something that might have been onions cooked to the point of being slimy, clear worms.

“Army food’s not great, but I’m used to it.”

“Why’s that?”

Irene hesitated. “If I tell you, I’d have to kill you.”

“I take my chances with that every day.”

“It’s not something I want a lot of people to know.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” he said, hand on his heart.

“Alright, if you promise not to tell. My father is General Foster. I don’t want people to treat me differently because of who he is.”

“That explains why Margaret’s been a little more patient with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw those mistakes you made in OR. They weren’t major, but Margaret’s chewed nurses heads off for less.”

“We’ll just say she and my father go way back. I’ll get better, I promise. I’m just not used to this pace yet.” Irene dropped her gaze to the coffee in her cup. Even BJ had noticed her screw ups.

Before she’d arrived, she’d been so certain of her capabilities. She was downright confident in them. But after the past two sessions in the OR, all of that had changed. What if she couldn’t keep up? What if she continued to make mistakes and had to be transferred? Her father would be so embarrassed. She’d be embarrassed.

“You’ll get used to the pace,” he assured her. “And if you don’t, they’ll just stick you with Winchester.”

“I did notice he’s slower than everyone else. How long’s he been here?”

“Long enough to not work a snail’s pace. But look, don’t sweat it. You’ll do fine.”

Irene nodded along but it didn’t help her insecurities much. She’d have to step up and do better.

Across the tent Shirley and Hawkeye walked in, her hand tucked in the crook of his arm. She gave Irene a smug smirk when Hawk leaned in to kiss her cheek. He didn’t seem to notice Irene was there until after they had their trays and were looking for a place to sit. Of course, BJ called them over and Irene’s stomach dropped. She considered walking out but didn’t want to explain her hasty retreat.

“Are we interrupting something?” Hawkeye teased as he sat across from BJ.

“Not at all,” BJ smiled. “I was just about to tell Irene here about the get together we’re having at the officer’s club this evening.”

Hawk locked eyes with BJ for a split second, then he looked at Irene, his smile faded. “Well, Beej, don’t forget about the lovely Mrs. Beej waiting at home for you.”

“We’re adults; I think we can go together and not act like hormonal teenagers.” BJ took a big bite of ham and grinned broadly at Hawkeye’s obvious irritation.

Shirley shifted closer to Hawkeye. “BJ’s a gentleman, and I’m sure Irene wouldn’t do anything to get in the way of a happy relationship.”

Irene didn’t like the way Shirley was looking at her. The assumption of being a homewrecker didn’t sit well with her either, but she was also hesitant to get sassy with Shirley after hearing what Corra had said about the woman cutting linens to shreds.

“What do you think, Irene?” BJ asked.

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” BJ assured. “We can go as friends. Besides, I could use a dance partner that’s not aware of my two left feet.”

Hawkeye opened his mouth, but Irene spoke up first. “Well, I think I can trust you not to take it the wrong way. And I can’t dance either so maybe out missteps will cancel out and no one will get hurt,” she chuckled.

“Or we’ll both be out of commission with broken toes,” BJ said. “It’s settled then; I’ll meet you outside your tent at eight.”

“Sounds good,” Irene said, standing before there was time to get dragged into another awkward conversation. Shirley’s presence was unbearably suffocating.

Outside she could breathe more freely. Alice came trotting up beside her, hooking her arm into Irene’s, her red curls bouncing around her face.

“Party in the officer’s club tonight,” she said.

“So I heard,” Irene smiled. “BJ asked me to go with him.”

“Hunnicutt?” Alice had a twinkle of mischief in her eye.

“Not like that. We’re just going as friends. Besides, if he’s as loyal as I think he is, it’ll be no big deal. Unlike some other doctors.”

“I guess you saw that Hawk and Shirley made up.”

“You don’t sound so happy about that.”

“I just don’t like that girl,” Alice said, holding the tent door open for them.

Irene kicked off her shoes and hopped up into her bunk. “I can’t say I’m a fan either. I mean, how could she act the way she did before she even knew me?”

“And to top it off, insinuating that you’re not pretty enough for Hawkeye to be interested, which he obviously is.”

Irene’s cheeks flushed, her mind going back to the thoughts that had helped her back to sleep. She shook her head, as if keeping those thoughts too long would allow Alice to read her mind.

“He needs to keep his interest to himself.”

“That’s not exactly Hawkeye’s style. I’m tellin’ you, I’ve been around for a while and I’ve never seen him stick with one girl very long. Most of the nurses don’t mind; it sort of comes with the territory over here. We date around, have some laughs, keep each other company on the cold winter nights,” Alice giggled. “It’s all in fun.”

“People just have flings because they can?”

“Sure. I mean, there are some that find real love and stick together, but most of the time it’s nothing serious.”

“I don’t think I’m into that.”

“I wasn’t either when I started out. But it’s a hard life here. Sometimes you just need someone to cling to. Anyway, I didn’t sleep all that well last night. I think I’ll get a nap in before I go on duty. Are you working today?”

“No, I’m free until tomorrow.”

“Given we don’t get swamped with wounded,” Alice rolled over, her back to Irene.

Irene lay staring at the canvas above her and thought about what Alice had said. Hawkeye was just the kind of guy who liked a fling here and there. Nothing like what she was looking for. Somehow, she was disappointed with that.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the camp around her; jeeps barreling over potholes, nurses laughing as they crossed the compound, dogs barking, and corpsmen playing football. She let the sounds ease her to sleep as she tried her best to keep thoughts of Hawkeye out of her dreams.

* * *

By sundown, the camp was a different place. Someone had hung paper lanterns around the officer’s club door and music played from within. BJ wore a dark grey kimono covered in little dragons and a strange hat with a patchwork of fabric around it. A few of the nurses wore kimonos as well and all of them had their hair and makeup done.

Alice had helped Irene with makeup and painting her nails as Irene didn’t have any of her own yet, but there was nothing to be done about more comfortable clothing. Alice wore a cute green kimono that set off her complexion. She blew Irene a kiss as she headed off on the arm of a soldier Irene didn’t recognize, a different one than the night before.

“You look great,” BJ said, holding an arm out for her.

“I look like a prom queen who thought army drab was in.”

“At least you’ve got the face for it,” BJ laughed. “You could be like Klinger.”

BJ nodded toward Klinger who was on patrol with a rifle over his shoulder and a knee-length backless gown topped off with a tiara and matching earrings.

“Well, he has the legs for it,” Irene said. “Why is he dressed like that, anyway?”

“He’s trying to get a section eight.”

“How long’s he been at it?”

“Longer than I’ve been here.”

“And he hasn’t given up yet?”

“If there’s one thing that can be said about Max Klinger, it’s that he’s determined.”

“Seems to be going around,” Irene said as Hawkeye trotted up to join them.

“Hey kids, you headed my way?” Hawkeye said, his eyes locked on Irene, smile wide. He wore a black kimono with a gold dragon twisting across the back.

“Can’t you find your own date?” BJ said.

“Margaret needed her in post op. She’ll be around soon.”

Irene let her shoulders fall a little, relieved that Shirley might not be around until much later when hopefully, she would either be tipsy or too busy dancing to notice. Given she didn’t linger around Hawkeye too long, she didn’t see why Shirley would care. But how to get rid of him?

BJ held the door open for Irene and she got her first look at the inside of the officer’s club. It was smaller than most she’d seen, but nice anyway. There was a juke box blaring something fast paced, an old piano, some tables and stools made of old tires, and a dart board with just as many dents around it in the tin walls as was on the board itself.

People were piled in, dancing, drinking, laughing. It was hard to believe these were the same people as the other day, somber in the operating room, staring at guts of young soldiers. It wasn’t the way her father ran things, but she liked it. The whole camp was far from what she’d experienced with her father at the helm, but something about this felt… better. These people deserved a good time.

“Buy you a drink?” BJ asked, leaning in so she could hear him.

“I’ll have what you have.”

“Got it,” he said, making his way toward the bar.

“And one for me,” Hawkeye said, calling after BJ who responded by tossing a hand up. “I’m surprised you’re still walking after eating in the mess tent. Usually takes some time before your taste buds die and your stomach develops a lead lining.”

Irene smiled instead of telling him what she’d already disclosed to BJ. Two people in camp knowing was bad enough; she didn’t need Hawkeye knowing too. “I’ve had worse,” she said as BJ brought back some drinks.

“To getting out alive,” BJ joked and the three of them raised their glasses.

The men took theirs in one gulp, setting their glasses on a nearby table to be picked up later. The corpsmen sitting there didn’t seem to mind and barely gave the doctor’s a second glance. Irene decided to toss hers back as well and follow suit, if for no other reason than to ditch the glass.

A slower song started on the juke box and her blood ran cold. Hawkeye opened his mouth to speak but BJ stepped in.

“I love this song,” he extended a hand to Irene who took it without hesitation. “Danced with a girl at my middle school winter formal to this song.”

“Army drab prom?” Irene smirked, avoiding Hawkeye’s gaze as they took a few steps into the crowd.

BJ kept his distance, which suited Irene just fine, only putting his hands where it was necessary and allowed for a little distance between them. Still it was strange being so close to a practical stranger, especially when everyone else was hugging close, swaying with their partners as if they were one. It really did feel like a middle school dance for them and for some reason, it struck her funny.

“Care to share with the class?” BJ asked.

“Winter formal in the middle of a war zone. I don’t know, it’s sort of silly.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is. Peg loves to dance. Doesn’t get to do it much with me, but I try for her. I used to say that if she wanted to dance with me she’d need steel toe boots. She actually did it once too. Came in wearing this big clunky pair my cousin found in a garage sale.”

Irene noticed that even though he was smiling, his eyes looked sad as if he’d mentally drifted to some far-off place. She had no husband to miss, but she did miss her parents when she was away from them. She understood what it was like to be so very far from home but… home… the more she thought about it the less she knew what it meant. Home was where mom was. Dad was rarely there. He preferred to live in a foxhole than in a house. It was his way and somehow mom had put up with it. But where was home really?

“Sorry,” BJ said, “I got a little sidetracked.”

“It’s alright. I imagine it’s not easy to be away from your wife. But she’s done a good job with you. You haven’t stepped on my toes once.”

The song ended and went to something a little livelier. It pulled them out of the pit they were starting to dig for themselves and allowed them to loosen up some. They laughed and danced, tripping over one another. At one point, Irene spun away from BJ, only to spin right back into Hawkeye’s waiting arms, her original dance partner looking stunned.

Unlike BJ, Hawk had no problem pulling her close right off the bat. Her breath caught in her throat as he wrapped an arm around her waist, the other hand taking hers gently. His hips swayed in rhythm with her own and she felt her face flush with color. He was warm, his kimono soft against her cheek and for a moment she was lost in his scent. He was a better dancer than BJ and took over leading immediately.

“Captain,” she breathed.

“Hawkeye,” he corrected, but she shook her head.

“Your… your kimono is beautiful but um…I’m afraid I’m underdressed,” she said, taking a step back.

“What a coincidence. I was thinking about being underdressed in the supply room.”

“You’d be very cold in there.”

He snorted and she pulled away from him, the last of his smile gone when her hand slipped from his. She took one more look at him and turned on her heel. As she fled, she ignored BJ’s calls for her to come back and nearly ran into Shirley at the door. Perhaps best for both parties, Hawkeye didn’t follow her, and she was able to resist the urge to look back.

In the A tent, in the safety of her bunk, she finally took a deep breath and admitted to herself… she was in trouble.


	5. A Time of Need

**5**

**A Time Of Need**

By midafternoon the following day, Irene was finally free of the post-op ward. The day had grown warm enough for a pleasant stroll around the compound. In truth, all she wanted to do was rest. To sleep. Her muscles were sore from constant abuse, but she didn’t want to admit it. However, she knew that sleeping too much wouldn’t do her any favors in the long run. If she were to sleep now, she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to get through the next day.

She stretched her arms high over her head and took nice long strides to work the muscles in her legs. Her eyes scanned the compound for Hawkeye, telling herself it was for the purpose of avoiding him and not because she wanted to see him again. Too bad she wasn’t good at convincing herself.

As she passed the entrance to the compound, carefully stepping over puddles in the muddy road, a man caught her arm and started yelling at her in Korean. At first she jumped, startled, but the look in the man’s eyes was despair, not anger. He kept repeating the same thing but Irene couldn’t understand a word.

A young boy ran up to them, grabbing the older man’s arm. He was a scrawny little thing, no older than ten with brown eyes and a dirty face.

“Sorry,” the boy said, his accent thick. “My father mean well. He look for doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor, I’m a nurse. I can get someone if you—”

The man cut her off and kept tugging her arm, pointing up the road.

“My sister very sick. Need help right away,” the boy explained.

Irene glanced back at the compound, then around to a jeep that was sitting nearby with a medical pack in the front seat. The Swamp was quiet and she wondered if the doctors were sleeping. She chewed her lip but the man kept repeating his pleas for help.

“Let me grab a bag,” she said, pointing toward the one in the jeep. The man seemed to understand and released her arm but he didn’t wait. He hobbled back up the road, aided by his young son.

Irene didn’t think the man was old enough to limp from injury and when she looked down she saw he had a severely clubbed foot. She hoisted the bag over her shoulder and against her better judgment, followed the man and his child away from the compound.

“How old is your sister?” Irene asked.

The boy held up four fingers. “We run from Chinese. They destroy village. We go south but sister sick.”

“So you’re stuck until she’s well?”

He nodded.

“What’s your name?”

“Jiho.”

“And your sister?”

“Her name Hyunjoo.”

“That’s a pretty name. My name is Irene.”

The boy nodded slowly, never taking his eyes of his father, who was leading the way.

Irene clenched her fists around the medical bag and glanced over her shoulder. They’d already rounded the bend and the camp was no longer in sight. She’d made an irresponsible decision going off alone without anyone knowing where she was. Would they miss her? How long would it take to notice she was gone if these people had less than good intentions?

The group traveled in silence for a few miles until the man started walking faster, speaking and pointing to a run-down house that was missing part of its roof. The surrounding village was nearly destroyed, leaving the ruins of buildings, broken pottery, and scraps of random items strewn about.

A woman heard them and stepped out of the house, relief on her worried face. She greeted her husband and hugged her boy before ushering Irene inside where a young girl lay sleeping on a straw mat. Jiho sat by his sister and stroked her sweat damped hair. The mother had covered her child in heavy blankets, and she continued to tuck the child in.

Irene knelt beside the girl and checked her cheek and forehead. She was burning up with a fever and the blankets weren’t doing any good.

“Jiho, does your mother speak English?”

He shook his head. “I tell her what you say.”

“Alright, tell her your sister has a fever and the blankets need to come off. They’re making her too hot.”

Jiho thought a moment, then spoke to his mother who put her hands over the girl, keeping the blankets tight. She looked at Irene and explained, but it took a minute for Jiho to figure out what to say.

“She say, Hyunjoo cold. Say she very cold. Need blanket.”

“Fevers make you feel cold, but you’re really not. The blankets could be making it worse. We need to drop her temperature. Do you understand? Make her cooler.”

Jiho spoke to his mother again and reluctantly the woman backed off. Irene stripped off the blankets to reveal a skinny girl underneath, her clothes wet with sweat.

“She needs dry clothes, then wipe her down with a damp cloth. That should help with the fever.” Irene did what she could to diagnose the problem while Jiho explained what she’d said to his mother. The parents spoke in hushed tones, the mother wringing her hands while Irene did the examination.

“She’s going to need medicine. I should take her back to camp for treatment.”

This didn’t go over well with the parents. Jiho explained they were afraid of being split up if they returned with her and no amount of persuading would change their minds. All she could do was promise to return the next morning with food and medicine and anything else she could manage to sneak out.

Before leaving she helped them haul water from a nearby stream, feed their ox, and clear debris from the floor of the house to allow them a more comfortable, safe living space until they were able to move on. She only thought he muscles ached before. And blisters were forming on her palms.

The sun was low on the horizon by the time she left to walk the three miles back to camp by herself and was a mere sliver of light in the distance. She shuddered against the wind, the temperatures dropping from the warmth of the day. Her skin prickled with cold but she kept moving down the dirt road. Night fell and her heart raced at every snap of a twig or rustling of leaves from the trees that lined the path.

Overhead the moon hung in a thin sliver, offering little light to the world below. Trees blocked out what little light the moon provided, and Irene pulled her arms close to herself. She hurried along her way, heart racing with every step. The family had been good people but the danger wasn’t over yet. Not until she was safe inside the compound.

Voices from ahead stopped her dead in her tracks. She looked back to see men walking in the dark, rifles shouldered. Her breath caught in her throat and she stepped into the bushes on the edge of the road and waited for them to pass. It wasn’t until they were much closer that she realized they were South Korean soldiers and not a danger, but she also didn’t feel comfortable being alone in the dark with strange men, no matter what side they were on.

Once they were gone, she grabbed up the medical bag and practically ran for the camp, every little sound urging her on in an adrenaline-induced panic until she saw the lights of the compound come into view. Finally, she was able to slow her pace, her breath coming in short bursts of white that floated into the night.

Rosie’s was bustling and the business of it set her at ease. She was safe at last. As she strode by a man stumbled out and plowed into her, knocking her into a muddy tire rut in the road. The red-faced drunk hadn’t noticed her at all, but a hand extended, and she gladly took it, her own face going crimson with embarrassment at her soaked clothes.

“Thanks,” she muttered before looking up to the grinning face of Hawkeye. _Great_ , she thought.

“You’re even prettier when you're filthy. I can help you clean up if you want.”

“You’re insufferable, doctor.”

“Oh, are we playing that game? I love that game. I think I need a checkup nurse, maybe you can meet me in the supply closet, and we can discuss my symptoms.”

Irene rolled her eyes and suppressed a smile. “No thank you, I don’t associate myself with taken men,” she said slinging mud off her arm, teeth chattering as goosebumps sprang up on her skin.

He was still smiling but it was less genuine as he looked her over, his eyes softening as he slipped out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“I couldn’t—” she began, only to be cut off when he raised a hand to stop her.

“It needs to be washed anyway,” he shrugged. “And my name’s not even on that one so no one has to know where it came from. Unless a nurse recognizes my unique aroma, then, well, I can’t help that.”

“Ah, the aroma of booze and cigar smoke. I’m sure they’ll be clamoring for a whiff.” This time she did return his smile.

“You’d be surprised at the nurses that have come crawling for that manly odor.” He pushed a muddy lock of hair out of her face. “The showers should be empty. Enjoy. Unless you want me to join you? It can get pretty lonely in there.”

“I think I can manage,” she shook her head and started toward the nurses' tent to get some clothes, all the while completely unable to stop herself from smiling.

Irene trotted into A tent, where Alice sat on her bunk, one leg hanging off. She looked up from her knitting, saw the jacket, and squealed with joy. The ball of yarn tumbled to the floor as Alice leaped from the top bunk and grabbed the collar of the jacket around Irene’s shoulder.

“Judging by the size, I’m guessing it’s not yours?”

“Alice I—”

“This is Hawkeye’s jacket. You two are the cutest, I swear.”

“There’s no “you two” in this scenario. It’s cold and I fell in the mud, that’s it.”

“Oh please. It’s a couple hundred yards at best. You wouldn’t have frozen to death walking across the compound. He’s got it bad for you and judging by that grin you’ve had plastered on your face since you walked in, you’re falling pretty hard too.”

“Honestly! Nothing’s going on. And don’t say anything. I don’t want this getting out of hand,” Irene laughed and pulled off the jacket, shoving it under her pillow before Helen and Corra walked in.

“Goodness, girl,” Helen said. “You’re covered in mud.”

“We’re going right now to get a shower,” Alice said. She tossed Irene’s robe to her and shoved her shower bucket into her arms. “No buts missy, we have things to talk about.”

“Oh, Irene,” Helen said, stopping them at the door. “Sorry, but Nurse Able sprained her ankle earlier and Major Houlihan wanted me to tell you she needs you in post-op tonight. A Korean woman had her baby earlier and they need all the help they can get in there.”

Irene suppressed a groan. She’s just come out of post-op before going to help Hyunjoo and she was exhausted but saying so now would me explaining where she was all day instead of sleeping so she nodded and moved on, following Alice to the showers. At least there was time for that.

* * *

Most everyone in post-op was asleep when Irene and Alice signed in for the night. Even the Korean mother was sleeping soundly in the first cot by the desk, where sat Hawkeye with the infant in one arm, filling out paperwork with the other.

“Oh, Irene,” Hawkeye yawned. “You’re working this shift? Weren’t you here this morning?”

“Yeah, Nurse Able sprained her ankle so Major Houlihan wanted me to fill in for her.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, you look terrible.”

“I didn’t get any sleep.”

“Are you sure you’re up for post-op duty?”

“It’s alright. It’s pretty quiet around here at night.”

“How about this. You finish this paperwork for me and it’ll give you an excuse to sit at the desk a while. Get some rest.”

Irene opened her mouth to speak when Shirley came over and stepped between them, her back to Irene.

“It’s getting late, doctor, why don’t you go to bed?” she asked.

“I was just telling Nurse Foster here to take over my paperwork for me. Do you mind taking the baby? I think she’s finally asleep.”

Shirley stepped back. “Oh, I’m sorry but I really should get another unit of blood ready for Brody.” She was off like a bolt.

“I guess that gives you more reason to hang out around here,” Hawk said as he passed the child over to Irene.

“How sweet. Does she have a name yet?” Irene sat in the chair and Hawkeye reached over her shoulder to graze the baby’s cheek with his finger. He absolutely beamed at her.

“Sang Hee. There were some minor complications with the delivery which is why she and her mother are still here but they should go home tomorrow.”

“Hello, Sang Hee,” Irene whispered. She glanced up at Hawkeye who was still hanging over her and absently rubbing her arm. “Um, doctor, you should rest.”

“Hm? Oh, right.” He brushed the baby’s cheek once more and signed himself out.

Irene cradled Sang Hee in one arm and went to work on Hawkeye’s paperwork with the other, grateful to get off her feet for a while. The night passed quickly and quietly, with Alice and Irene caring for the child and mother, but Irene noticed something strange. When either of them needed help, Shirley was no where to be seen. It gave Irene a sinking feeling. Shirley was avoiding her, and it made Irene wonder if this would be another incident she’d have to hear about later or if there would be another incident of laundry assassination.


	6. He's Got a Knife!

**6**

**He’s Got A Knife!**

The following day Irene woke after lunch, her body finally catching up on much-needed rest. Again, the day was proving to be warm, the sun shining from a clear blue sky. Despite the weather, Irene put on one of her jackets. Sneaking Hawkeye’s out of A tent would prove difficult but she hid it under her coat and ducked into the laundry room.

Empty. That was a relief. She checked the collar to ensure his name was written on the inside. Her thumb dragged over his name and she dropped the jacket into the nearest pile of dirty laundry where it should be returned to its owner in a day or so. She noted that there were no linens cut to shreds and hoped that meant Shirley had gotten over her petty jealousy.

When she was finished she continued to prepare herself for the trip back to Hyunjoo and her family.

Stealing food for them was easy enough, but she had no idea how she’d get the other things they would need, especially medicine. In a way, she felt guilty for it. The soldiers that came through might need it and… and… she couldn’t help but think about that poor little girl, sick on the floor of that run-down shack. The army could always get more supplies. That family needed it more.

Irene snuck into the supply hut and began loading a bag with blankets, bandages, antibiotics, and disinfectants. She couldn’t help but think of what her father might do if he was the commanding officer and had caught her sneaking out so many supplies. Daughter or no, he’d have her punished.

Heart thumping, she started out the door only to run smack into Hawkeye. She backed up and put the bag behind her, but it was so full of supplies there was no way of hiding it. However, he seemed far more interested in her than what she was doing in the supply tent.

“We really have to stop running into each other,” he said with a grin.

“I was just leaving,” she replied, trying to slide past him but he put out an arm to stop her.

“I know it’s none of my business,” he dropped his voice, “but I couldn’t help but notice you came from outside the compound yesterday. It’s pretty dangerous out there.”

“I couldn’t agree more. Now if you’ll excuse me—” Irene pushed past him when she heard something hit the floor and roll away with a dull thump. Her heart nearly stopped when he reached down for a roll of bandages. He tossed it in the air as if he was thinking of something to say when he finally looked at her. “I can explain.”

Hawkeye stepped closer and gently took the bag from her hand, peeking inside, nodding quietly. “Planning a little weekend getaway? I’d love to know who I lost to.”

Irene opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t decide on what to say. How would he respond to the real reason she was stealing supplies? Did she trust him enough to tell him the truth? He’d caught her red-handed; she didn’t have much choice.

“Hyunjoo.”

Confusion crossed his face, but his smile didn’t drop. “I don’t understand.”

“I was stopped yesterday by a Korean man begging for help. He has a young daughter that’s very sick and they need help before they can move any farther south.”

Now the smile was gone, replaced by true concern but he didn’t say anything at first. She chewed her lip.

“Are you going to tell Colonel Potter?”

“Tell him what? That you’re helping a sick little girl? I’d do the same thing.”

Irene’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, Captain.” She turned to leave but he stopped her, his hand catching the strap of the bag.

“Hold on there,” he said. “I’m not going to tell Potter, but you can’t go out there alone. It’s dangerous.”

She almost told him she could handle it herself, but then she remembered the fear she’d felt the night before, running back to camp in the dark.

“I can ask BJ to go with me.”

“Why bother him when you’ve got a grade A surgeon right here at your fingertips? Besides, Beej is on duty today and I’m free.”

Irene raised a brow at him, and he seemed to get the point.

“Look, I’ve been here longer than pretty much anyone else. I know the kind of medical care these people need. It’s not like treating a patient back home. These people have a different way of living and being treated the wrong way could make the problem worse. Let me help.”

His boyish, flirty demeanor was gone, replaced by a competent doctor. He was worse this way. His blue eyes bore into her, his intense expression feeling more observant than before and she took a step back, dropping her gaze to the bag.

“You can come but keep your antics to yourself.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Irene peeked out the door, half to ensure no one would see them leaving together, and half to ensure Shirley wasn’t out and about. Hawkeye loomed over her, his breath hot in her ear. She half skipped away from him, heart in her throat.

“Don’t do that,” she hissed, rubbing her ear as she strode across the compound, face red as a beet.

Hawkeye trotted up behind her and the pair of them left camp. Neither of them spoke until they were on the well-worn dirt road that curved around the bend.

“I probably should have asked,” he began, “but how far are we going?”

“Did you know about the village near here that was destroyed?”

“That’s three miles away.”

“Just about that far… yeah… Is that a problem?”

“No, I just didn’t bring my good boots,” he grumbled.

“Thought you wanted to help that little girl?”

“We could have gotten a jeep.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why’s that?”

Irene inhaled deeply, unwilling to tell him about Shirley cutting into the laundry. “It’s too obvious that we’re sneaking away if we take a jeep. The fewer people that know, the better. I don’t want to get caught stealing all these supplies.”

“But we could be sneaking away,” he grinned.

“You’re the worst.”

“But I’m the best at it.”

Irene laughed and shook her head. “You don’t give up do you?”

“No.”

She glanced up at him and he was staring right back at her, smile plastered to his face.

“So… how long have you been here, Captain?”

He sighed and turned his eyes back to the road. “Too long.”

“What, no witty quips?”

“Nah, I ran out of those a long time ago.”

“Funny, you seem chock full of them back in camp.”

Hawk snorted but it was insincere. He shoved his hands in his pockets and they walked in silence for a time before he finally spoke.

“This place… after a while, it gets to you. Gets to everyone.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me,” he grinned but it was short-lived.

“You don’t seem that bad off.”

“You’re still new. Just wait. If the OR doesn’t get you, the mess tent will.”

The joke was thinly veiled. She could tell something was bothering him, but she didn’t pry. If he wanted to say something, he surely would.

“Well, why don’t we talk about something else. Like the people.”

“Oh, the people are the best. Even the worst ones grow on you after a while. Take Charles for example. When he first came here, he was a slow, insufferable, pompous windbag. Now he’s… well, he’s still a slow, insufferable, pompous windbag, but he’s an upgrade from Frank Burns. At least Charles is competent.”

“Frank Burns… I think I heard about him.”

“Yeah?”

“Word gets around when—” she paused, almost giving away her father’s position. “Well, let’s just say I know some people. Anyway, I know how you feel about the nurses here.”

“We have the best in Korea.”

“I get the feeling you know that personally.”

He clapped a hand over his heart, “Why, Lt. Foster, you make it sound like I’m not a perfect gentleman to the lovely ladies of the 4077th. I’m not just some easy date, madam.”

“If I agreed to one now, you’d take it.”

“Done.”

“That wasn’t an offer, it was an example. Besides, I’ve said before that I’m not interested in taken men and from what I hear, you and Nurse Grey are pretty close.”

“There’s no way to talk about that without digging myself a grave, is there?”

Irene shook her head, curls bouncing around her shoulders.

“Shirley…she’s a great girl,” he said. “Most nurses are compassionate and caring, but Shirley… she’s fantastic with them.”

“Helps she’s easy on the eyes.”

“Yeah, there’s that,” he laughed, then glanced at her. “This is pretty weird for me.”

“What is?”

“Talking about a woman with…”

“A woman? If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it would work out even if you weren’t involved with Nurse Grey. I’m not into the whole, temporary fling thing.”

Hawkeye opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly when they heard a vehicle fast approaching from the direction of the village.

“We have to hide,” Irene said, dipping into a bush by the side of the road.

“What? Why?”

“Just get in here,” she hissed.

He didn’t argue, just smushed in close to her, their faces mere inches apart. “You think we can make this an extended stay?”

“Calm down.”

Irene’s skin burned and she prayed the jeep would pass more quickly. And yet… oh did she want it to slow down. She clenched her hands into fists around the bag strap and tried her best to not look at him, although she could feel him staring a hole into her. He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear and goosebumps raced down her arms.

“Hawkeye,” she scolded.

“I love it when you say my name.” His lips lingered close to her ear.

The jeep passed and she nearly threw herself from the bushes. He, on the other hand, came out whistling. She brushed the dirt from her clothes, trying to hide her blushing face. He picked a leaf out of her hair and flicked it away.

“Why so jumpy?” he asked.

“I’m not jumpy. Let’s get going,” she said, charging down the dirt road.

He whistled the rest of the trip and didn’t stop until the shelled village came into view. The father of the family was outside with his wife, trying to cover the holes in the hut while their son tended to the ox. Hawkeye dropped back a step but Irene didn’t slow.

Jiho noticed them first and practically ran over, his parents stopping what they were doing to watch. Irene knelt before the boy.

“You come back,” he said.

“Of course. This is Doctor Pierce, he’s here to see your sister.”

Jiho looked up at Hawkeye skeptically.

“It’s alright. He’s a good doctor. Good man. He’ll help her.”

Jiho nodded and ran back to his parents who were speaking quickly and waving Irene and Hawkeye closer. Irene handed the bag of food to the mother who clutched it to her chest and bowed repeatedly.

“Mother say thank you. Hyunjoo not wake up last night. Is she going to die?”

“Hey, don’t you worry about that,” Hawkeye said, kneeling beside the little girl. “We brought medicine that’ll help her. She’ll be up and playing soon.”

“How soon? Father say we can’t stay long.”

Hawkeye examined the girl whose breathing had become raspy despite her fever being lower than it had been before.

“I think we should take her back with us,” he said.

“We can’t. Jiho told me yesterday that the parents are worried they’ll be sent to safety before she’s well and they’ll be split up. They wouldn’t really do that, would they?”

Hawkeye’s mouth set into a hard line. “I’ve seen it happen. We’ve had people come through that are separated from their families and some of them…” he met her gaze, but he didn’t have to finish what he was saying.

“Can she be treated here?”

“Yeah, it’s not a severe infection. It’d be better if they came back with us, but I get why they don’t want to. Get me that antibiotic would ya?”

Irene rummaged through the bag and handed him the bottle and a syringe.

“While you do this, I’m going to draw some water for them. It looks like their buckets are empty.”

“Mother and Father fix hut, then get water.”

“Don’t worry, Jiho, I’ll take care of it for you.”

“Jiho stay with Hyunjoo,” he said, crouching beside his sister across from Hawkeye.

“Of course.” Irene grabbed the buckets and went outside, walking to the broken well she’d been to the day before. The stones around the edge had crumbled and begun to fall in, but it was the only water source close enough to be used. She filled the buckets and headed back, the metal handles pinching her palms.

As Hawkeye treated Hyunjoo Irene made herself useful by hauling water and helping the parents patch holes in the side of the house. She could see Hawk tending to Hyunjoo through holes in the wall. He was so gentle with her. His voice was calm and soothing. Even his expression had become serious. For a moment Irene was frozen in place, staring at him. The way his eyes became so intense when he worked but he still managed to keep a tender touch.

The mother was fretful, peeking in regularly to see about her daughter. The fact that they were trying to secure the hut was a good sign for Irene. They were willing to stick it out until their child was well enough to travel.

Irene was feeding the ox when Hawkeye finally came out of the hut, bags empty.

“She’s all set,” he said. “It’ll be a couple of weeks before she can start traveling again, but Jiho said he’ll explain that to his parents. I think Hyunjoo is in good hands.”

“I hope so.”

“I’ve seen parents do things…” he shook his head. “If I had any doubt that they weren’t going to do right by her, I’d take her back with us.”

Irene watched as he started off down the road. She said her goodbyes to the family and jogged to catch up with Hawkeye. Without the weight of the bags the trip back would be easier, but her hands were feeling the abuse of carrying buckets of water and hauling splintered wood and stone. She winced as she prodded a blister that had formed at the base of her fingers and Hawkeye stopped her in the middle of the road.

“Woah. Your hands look terrible. What were you doing while I was with the kid?”

“Just helping. I’ll be fine.”

He took her hands in his and rubbed her palms with his thumbs. “I’ll take care of this when we get back. Wish I’d brought extra bandages.”

Irene looked up at him, but his eyes were stuck on her hands, his expression soft. Nostalgic.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, releasing her hands before starting to walk again.

“Were you remembering something?”

He drew in a deep breath. “There was a woman.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Nah, this one… she was different. Her family was wealthy, but they lost everything. Just lived in a shell of a home but no matter what happened, she kept moving. Hauled water over a mile, took care of her own vegetables, even took in kids and widows when they had nowhere else to go.”

“She was Korean?”

“Yeah.”

“What happened to her?”

“When her mother died, she didn’t have a reason to stick around. Packed up and took her people south where there isn’t any war. Where they’d be safer.”

Irene got the feeling that he truly cared for her and it stirred an emotion deep inside her. Pity. If he loved her, which the way he spoke, he might have, they were separated by war. It was a tragic story. And yet… was that jealousy she felt as a pinprick in her heart? That was absurd.

“Do you still keep in contact with her?”

“No. We tried for a while, but you know how it goes.”

“Not really, but I get the picture. I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. So, what about you? Surely you have a string of broken hearts behind you.”

Irene laughed. “Ah, not so much as you might think.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I don’t know.”

“C’mon. I told you about mine.”

“Something tells me there’s more than one in your past.” She raised an eyebrow.

“But only a few big ones that broke my heart too. If I tell you about one more would you open up to me?”

“Hmm… deal.”

“Alright. I guess the worst one would be Carlye,” he stared up at the sky while they walked. “We lived together for a while, but I couldn’t commit. My work comes first. Always has. I tried to change for her but… It didn’t pan out. I can’t change that part of me.”

Irene nodded understandingly. Some people couldn’t cut being second after career. She’d never had to deal with it herself, but she saw it in her parents. Her mother always came after her father’s career, but he never let her forget how much he loved her and that love between them had kept them together for decades. It could be done, but both halves had to want it equally.

“Alright, now it’s your turn.”

Irene took a deep breath. “His name was Andrew. Andrew Brozik. We dated while I was in nursing school and he was in law school. He had plans on being the District Attorney. Anyway, I had reservations about… um, sex before marriage. It was fine for a while, but he started getting very frustrated with me. I thought I loved him, and I wanted so badly for things to work out between us. About the time I started to suspect he was sating those desires with other women, he proposed. I thought that if I could get a ring on his hand it would change him. He’d be mine but… it only made him push for us to go the next step until I gave in. It worked for a short time, but he didn’t change. I caught him with another nurse I was in class with.”

“I’m sorry you went through that.”

“It’s my own fault. I was stupid and blind. I would have done anything to keep him.”

“Hey,” he grabbed her arm to stop her in the road. “That guy was an idiot. It’s not your fault he was a jerk. You know what? Forget him. He wasn’t worth your time.”

She was taken aback. On the one hand, he was completely serious. It was sweet. But on the other, she couldn’t forget that he was doing the same. She was the other woman and she hated it. She pulled her arm from him as gently as she could and continued down the road.

* * *

Irene’s feet throbbed by the time they got back to the 4077th, but she felt good about what she’d done, despite her aching muscles. The blisters on her hands had begun to burst and she did her best to resist the urge to pick at them.

Hawkeye stretched his arms high over his head and yawned.

“I think I’m going to hit Rosie’s for a stiff drink to lull me to sleep. Care to join me?”

“I’ll have to pass. Thanks though.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Oh, has the long day destroyed your will to flirt?”

“I’m sure I can come up with a line if you want one.”

“Save it for Nurse Grey,” she laughed.

“If you change your mind, you know where I live.”

Irene rolled her eyes and Hawkeye ducked into Rosie’s where a couple of men were yelling at each other. She stopped a moment to tighten a bootlace and no sooner had she stood than a scream erupted from inside Rosie’s. A couple of nurses ran out, but the sound of breaking bottles raged on inside.

“He has a knife!” one of the nurses yelled and Irene’s blood ran cold.

“Hawkeye,” she whispered before running into the bar.

The crowd stuck to the outside edge of the little room, with two men standing in the middle, yelling obscenities at each other. One of them could barely stand but had a shattered bottle clutched in his fist, the other held a blade.

“Take that outside!” Rosie demanded from behind the bar.

“Hey, take it easy,” Hawkeye said, holding his hands out to both the men, but they didn’t seem to notice he was even there and continued to argue over him.

“Give me my money you cheat!” the man with the knife bellowed.

“Come an-hic take it!” The second man swung his bottle close to Hawkeye, lurching forward a little.

Hawkeye stepped back, tongue flicking across his lips as he tried to deescalate the situation. “Come on guys, I’m sure we can handle this without anyone getting hurt.”

“Move it doc, or I’ll carve you up too,” the first man snarled.

“Hawkeye! Get out of there!” Irene called out.

His head snapped toward her and his eyes went wide as the two men lunged at each other. Another scream rang out, but Irene couldn’t tell if it was her own or someone else’s. A few soldiers rushed through the door and pulled the two men apart. The sight of blood stopped the whole crowd in their tracks.

Hawkeye stumbled back a step, confusion twisting his face as his gaze slid from Irene’s face down to the gash in his side where blood poured into his open hand. She was at his side before he fell and eased him onto the floor as best she could. Her hands pressed to his side, but the blood pooled between her fingers anyway.

“Help! Someone, get help!”

The soldiers dragged the drunks outside, people called out for the MPs, some nurses ran for other doctors, a few came to her aid.

“Hawkeye? Can you hear me?”

He turned his face to her, a grimace of pain curving his lips. “I love it when you say my name.”

She put her hand to his cheek and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.


	7. So Sorry

**7**

**So Sorry**

Irene sat at Hawkeye’s side, shaking all over. She leaned onto her knees and put her face in her palms. Not a minute after Hawkeye had passed out, two soldiers picked him off the floor of Rosie’s and rushed his limp body to the OR, Irene running beside them, trying to slow the bleeding. Margaret and BJ met them at the door, but they wouldn’t allow her to assist because of her obvious panic.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, glancing around to see that she was alone with him before reaching out and touching his hand before withdrawing like she’d been burned. What was she thinking? She rested her head in her hands again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hm?” Irene looked up to see Margaret standing at the end of Hawkeye’s bed.

“You gave blood. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, yes ma’am. Sorry, I’m just… still trying to process what happened.”

“Get some sleep Foster,” Margaret said, resting a shoulder on Irene’s shoulder.

“I don’t want to leave him.”

“You know what happened wasn’t your fault.” Margaret sat on the edge of Hawkeye’s bed, her eyes on his sleeping face.

“If I hadn’t called out to him, he wouldn’t have been taken off guard.” Irene leaned forward onto her elbows in the chair beside him, rubbing her face with her hands. She was dead tired but didn’t think she could sleep if she tried. Not knowing how close Hawkeye had come to death.

The bottle hadn’t damaged any organs, but the wound was deep and the bleeding profuse. By the time they’d gotten him down to the OR, he’d bled a trail through the dirt leading into camp.

“I understand how you feel, but you’ve done all you could. And you’re looking a little pale. You should go get cleaned up and lay down. I’ll get someone to bring you some food.”

“Can you let me know if anything changes?”

“Of course. Now go get some sleep.”

Irene took another look at Hawkeye’s face, still in slumber. She glanced up to the saline drip and pulled back the blanket to see his bandages were perfectly clean. Only then did she tuck him in and decide to throw in the towel.

“He’s going to be just fine,” Margaret said, laying her hand on Irene’s. “It’ll take more than a drunk with a bottle to keep Pierce down.”

“I know he’ll be okay. Thank you, Major.” Irene stood to leave, catching a glimpse of her uniform, stiff with dried blood. She didn’t want to look at it.

Outside the moon had begun its trek across the sky. Clouds hung heavy on the horizon, threatening a storm. The air smelled heavy with rain and she wished it would pour on their little corner of Hell. She only wanted the blood to be washed away before dawn.

Shirley came out of nowhere like a storm herself, marching up to Irene as she crossed the compound toward the A tent. Two doctors passed and Shirley flashed them a beautiful smile, but her eyes blazed at Irene.

“Can I speak with you Lt. Foster?”

Irene rubbed her hands. “I’m pretty tired. Can it wait till morning?”

“No. It can’t.” Her tone turned dark, but her smile stayed where it was.

“Alright, what is it?”

“It’s sort of private. How about we step into the laundry room?”

 _Oh great,_ Irene thought, glancing around for anyone to give her a reason to decline but seeing the area devoid of familiar face, she forced a grin and let Shirley lead the way.

As soon as they were in the laundry Shirley rounded on her. Irene flinched, expecting to be struck but Shirley kept her hands in her pockets.

“So um… I hear you were with Hawkeye when he was attacked at Rosie’s.”

“I was passing by and heard the commotion. I just went in to see if everything was okay.”

Shirley nodded slowly. “See, I was told that someone saw the two of you coming back from off the compound.”

“There… there was a matter we had to attend. Some locals…”

Shirley walked toward the wash bins and braced on them a moment before turning around to stare Irene in the eye. “They’re saying you saved him.”

“No, I don’t think I—”

“I thought I made myself clear when you got here that Hawkeye is mine.”

“I never said he wasn’t.”

“But I guess I didn’t make myself clear enough,” Shirley took two steps toward Irene and stood tall, towering to stare down at her. “If I catch you around him again in a less that professional setting, I’ll make sure you regret it.

Irene wished she had the energy to fire back. Everything hurt. Her hands, her legs, her heart. She was exhausted, shaky, and still covered in Hawkeye’s blood. She opened her mouth for a protest, any protest, but Shirley beat her to it.

“I mean it, Foster. One more time.”

With that Shirley stormed out of the tent and Irene nearly collapsed into the wooden supports. It took some time to steady her nerves, but her hands couldn’t be convinced that they were in the clear. They proceeded to shake until she was bathed and settled into bed. She didn’t dare tell the other girls for fear word would get back to Colonel Potter, he’d investigate, and she’d be reprimanded for stealing supplies. Afterall, it was that chance meeting with the Korean refugees that had started this whole thing.

Well, she’d just have to finish it alone. Or at least with someone else. She decided to go with a safer option and ask BJ to accompany her on the next day’s trip. With that she rolled over and the sleep she thought would run from her, plowed her over instead.

* * *

Hawkeye woke in the early morning hours, groggy from morphine. At first, he didn’t know where he was. The familiar trappings of the Swamp were replaced by a wooden ceiling and the distinct smell of disinfectant. He raised his hand to his head and his side throbbed.

What happened? He closed his eyes and remembered… Rosie’s. There was a scuffle over money and… and… Irene. He remembered the blood on his hands and the worry on her face. And the bottle. He’d been stabbed. The last thing he could dredge up with seeing Irene’s face before everything went black.

Rain fell on the tin roof, but every drop felt like a prickling in his skin. Far off thunder rumbled. Or was it heavy artillery? He chose to believe it was thunder.

Margaret was at his side in an instant, speaking quietly to not disturb men in beds on either side of him.

“How long was I out?” he asked.

“About fourteen hours. The surgery took a lot out of you.”

“What happened with Irene?”

“She’s perfectly fine. I sent her to bed a few hours ago. She donated blood for you.”

“She did?”

Margaret nodded. Hawkeye laid his head back on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling. She’d been there. Seen him get stabbed. Had she worried over him? Was she having nightmares of bloodshed at this very moment? _Stop being dramatic,_ he thought.

Shirley came into view and those thoughts had to take a backseat to her presence. Margaret’s smile turned a little colder. She didn’t leave at first; not even when Shirley took his hand and kissed his knuckles as if Margaret wasn’t there.

“Keep that nonsense out of post-op.” Margaret snapped. She glared at Shirley until she let Hawkeye’s hand go before she looked back to Hawk. “Irene wanted to know as soon as you were awake.”

“Could you go get her?” Hawkeye said, beginning to sit up but being put back down by the pain in his side. He gripped at the blankets and gritted his teeth.

“I saw her headed back earlier,” Shirley said. “She looked absolutely exhausted. You should let her sleep.”

“I want to thank her.”

“I understand, Hawk, but both of you need rest.”

He laid back and fidgeted with his fingers, staring back up to the ceiling. Maybe it was better. Maybe she should sleep, and he needed time to think about what to say to her. She wanted to see him. That was a good sign. Maybe she wasn’t so traumatized that she couldn’t look at him. He’d seen people crack over that kind of thing.

“I’ll get you more morphine,” Margaret said, taking her leave.

Without the Major to chastise her, Shirley clutched Hawkeye’s hand so tightly her nails were digging into his skin. Tears pricked her eyes and her lip quivered. But she looked angry.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

She hesitated but released her death grip on his hand. “It’s nothing. Really. I’m just…. That guy almost killed you.”

“But he didn’t. I shouldn’t have stepped in like that anyway.”

“Tell me it won’t happen again.” She pressed his hand to her cheek.

That wasn’t a promise he could make. He’d stepped into plenty of bad situations before. This one just happened to catch up to him in a way the other hadn’t.

“I’ll be more careful. Don’t cry. I’m fine. Really.”

Margaret returned with the morphine. “Here, this’ll help you sleep. I’ll send Irene your way first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, that’s okay Major,” Shirley cut in, speaking a little too loudly. She calmed herself with a stern look from Margaret. “I want to thank her too. I’ll talk to her in the morning.”

“Fine. Now you get to bed too. I won’t have my nursing staff dead on their feet if we get unexpected casualties.”

Shirley kissed Hawkeye’s forehead and left the post-op ward. Morphine raced through Hawk’s veins and he settled into his cot. Margaret pulled his blankets up to his chest and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re alright. Try to relax. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You spoil me Margaret,” he muttered, his eyelids feeling heavy until the gentle pattering of rain lulled him to sleep.

* * *

“You ready to go Foster?”

Irene nodded slowly, her back to BJ. She’d taken one past look toward the post-op. Hawkeye had never sent for her and she was too afraid to go see him incase Shirley was there. Besides, maybe he didn’t want to see her at all. Maybe he blamed her for getting him stabbed. She had called his name… she had pulled his attention away from where it needed to be at a crucial moment. She had…

“Irene,” BJ touched her arm and she turned to look up at him. “Hawkeye has the best people looking after him. But there’s a little girl out there that needs us. If we want to make good time, we need to leave now.”

“Yeah,” she inhaled. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks again for helping me BJ.”

“No problem. Hawk should be well enough in a week or so. He might even be able to finish what he started. Knowing him, he’s probably trying to get up as we speak to help patients. Or chase nurses.” He laughed and started off down the road. “Either way, they’ll have their hands full with him. You can go see him when we get back. I’m sure they’ll be grateful if you distract him for a while.”

“Maybe…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late today. I was working on laying tile in my kitchen!


	8. Would if I Could

** 8 **

** Would If I Could **

****

****

Days passed and the casualties from before had been shipped out, leaving Hawkeye as the only patient in post-op. Shirley had taken all those shifts and Irene didn’t dare go anywhere near post-op for fear the jealous blonde would be watching. But it also meant she was in a place of making up reasons to deny Hawkeye his requests for her to visit. 

“Why aren’t you going to see Hawkeye?” Alice asked, slipping into her bathrobe.

“Long story,” Irene said, putting on her own robe. 

“I don’t think Shirley is that long of a story.”

“How did you know it was because of her?”

“Irene. She cut up a bag of laundry like a Thanksgiving turkey and you’ve been antsy since Hawkeye was stabbed. It’s not hard to put two and two together. Did she say something to you?”

“Yeah, but I really don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“I think you should tell Hawk. He wouldn’t stand for her acting that way.”

“No way am I going to do that and be a tattle tale. If I did that, I’d be painting a target on my back. Look, she caught me when I was too exhausted to fight back. Next time things’ll be different, and I’ll stand up for myself.”

Alice and Irene wrapped up in their robes, grabbed their shower baskets, and headed for the shower tent, garnering a few whistles on the way. Alice primped her red hair and winked at one of the boys, sending his buddies laughing while the poor guy’s face turned crimson.

Irene shivered in the night air, goosebumps racing up her legs. The weather wasn’t unbearable as it had been, the storms bringing in warmer weather, though winter was still knocking at the door. She wrapped her arms around herself and waited with Alice outside the tent for the women who were in there to finish.

One of them stepped out and Alice went in and someone caught Irene by her elbow. She turned around to stare right into the chest of Hawkeye. He looked down at her with that same old boyish grin but there was a sadness to his eyes she couldn’t miss.

“What are you doing out of bed?” she asked, eyes darting around for any sign of Shirley.

“You wouldn’t come see me, so I thought I’d come see you. I sent for you, but you never showed up.”

“What? No one told me anything.”

Hawkeye opened his mouth, then closed it, brow furrowing. “No one?”

“No. You shouldn’t be up yet. Major Houlihan’ll have your hide if she catches you out here.”

“Then why don’t you escort me back?”

Irene pulled her robe closer to herself, unable to keep her feet still. 

“Relax,” he said, expression shifting to concern. “Margaret won’t go after you. No need to get all worked up about it.”

“No, it’s not that… I really can’t explain. Look, you should get back to post-op before you rip your stitches open.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that. BJ took them out earlier. I’m right as rain.”

“Maybe so, but you’re not supposed to be out here. You should go back.”

His shoulders dropped a little. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, not at all. I just… I don’t want you hurting yourself by getting up too soon is all.”

He nodded a little and looked toward post-op. “I just wanted to say thank you. BJ and Margaret told me how you helped me out. I could have—” he stopped and closed his mouth, forcing a smile. “Anyway, how’s Hyunjoo doing? BJ said you two have been going out almost every day to take her medicine. I’m glad you listened to me and didn’t go alone.”

“BJ’s been a big help. We were able to fix the roof on the hut yesterday and we plan on going back day after tomorrow to check on them. Hyunjoo is doing great. Another week and she’ll be ready to travel. We’re already having a hard time keeping her in bed. Like someone else I know.” She couldn’t help but smile, though her fear quickly shut it down as another nurse left the shower tent. Her heart leapt up into her throat until she saw it was just Corra, whose face went white as a sheet at the sight of them. Quickly as she came Corra scampered off toward their tent.

“What’s her deal? You’d think she saw a ghost,” Hawkeye said, watching her leave.

“Oh, she’s just like that sometimes. But look, you really should get back.”

“Okay, okay. But when you go to see Hyunjoo the last time, I’m going with you.”

“That’s not really necessary Cap—”

“I’m going. And please… don’t start with that Captain stuff again. We just got to first-name basis.”

Alice called to her from inside the tent and Irene chewed her lip. “I should go now.”

“Alright, I’m going.” He put his hands up. “You sure you’re not upset about something?”

“Hawkeye, please. Get back to bed.”

He smiled and shoved his hands into the pockets of his robe. “Goodnight, Irene.”

Irene hopped into the shower tent and watched him go through a crack in the door as he hobbled back to post-op, singing the whole way. Once he was out of sight her shoulders dropped and she exhaled a heavy breath.

“What took so long?” Alice asked as Irene got into the stall beside her. 

“Captain Pierce,” she huffed. “I swear he’s a bundle of trouble.”

“Normally I’d make a comment about him being cute and worth it, but in this case I’m going to have to agree with you. I still think you should tell someone about Shirley. Even if it’s Potter. I think someone should know.”

Irene let the water pour over her, pressing her palms to her eyes. She didn’t know what to do. 

“What did he want, anyway?” Alice asked, passing her shampoo to Irene. “Try this.”

“Thanks. I didn’t go see him, so he came to me. I have to find a way to tell him that we can’t be around each other alone.”

“You plan on being alone with him?”

“Cut it out,” Irene giggled swatting at Alice over the stall door. “He wants to go with me when I check up on Hyunjoo the last time.”

“Take BJ with you too.”

“Better yet, I’ll invite Shirley.” 

Alice burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s opening a whole different can of worms if you did that.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Alice lowered her voice and came in close. “Shirley doesn’t like dealing with the indigenous people much. She doesn’t do it as much when Hawk is around because he’ll work on anyone, even enemy soldiers. But I notice things. She swaps patients with the other girls and goes missing when local children come into camp looking for candy. She’s never said anything out loud, but I can tell she doesn’t want to deal with them. That’s a huge deal-breaker with Hawk.”

“I’ve seen her do it. Wow, I didn’t even think about it that way. When that Korean woman had her baby here, Sung Hee, Hawkeye was holding her when we came into post-op remember? He tried to hand the baby off to Shirley and she declined.”

“I remember that. The two of us took care of Sung Hee and her mother the whole night. I told you, she does that stuff all the time. If she says anything to you, just ask her to go with you and Hawk. She’ll decline, just watch.”


	9. Poisoned

**9**

**Poisoned**

Irene sat alone at a table away from the others, sipping her coffee and thinking over supplies she’d have to take on her last trip to see Hyunjoo and her family. The child was well again and ready for travel, but Irene wanted to ensure they had enough medicine and food to get them where they needed to go.

She was so lost in thought she didn’t see Shirley coming her way until she sat down across from her and slid a tray across the table.

“Thought you might be hungry,” Shirley said with a sweet smile, breaking off a piece of her own toast. She stared at Irene a moment, then nudged the tray. “Eat up. You’re going out to the village, today right? You’ll need your strength.”

Irene hesitated. How did she know about her visits to the village?

“Hawkeye told me,” Shirley said, looking smug.

“Thanks.” Irene picked up a piece of bacon, wary of upsetting Shirley by refusing the food she’d brought.

“So… Hawk told me the two of you are going to the village, but he didn’t tell me why.”

“There’s a sick child. I’m going to check on her one more time before her family moves on.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. But I don’t quite understand why Hawk is going with you.”

And there it was. Irene took another bite to give herself time to think.

“He’s a doctor. I’m just a nurse. He wanted to check her out himself.” She took a bite of eggs and Shirley’s smile grew wider, showing more of her perfect teeth.

“You know, he’s needed here. I mean, you’re a strong, capable woman. You don’t need him as much as his patients do. Besides, BJ’s been going with you right? He’s a fantastic doctor too. I’m sure he can clear the child.”

“I never asked the Captain to come with me. If you can talk him into staying behind, then be my guest.”

“Maybe if you’ve tried harder to persuade him. I’m worried to death about him getting injured again.”

“To be fair, he was injured at Rosie’s. If you want to keep him safe, talk him out of going over there.” Irene paused. “If you’re so concerned, then why don’t you come along?”

Her pretty face blanched. “I would, but I go on duty in twenty minutes.”

“That’s too bad. Well, I better get going. Thanks for breakfast.” Irene picked up her tray, leaving before Shirley could reply.

Hawkeye stood right outside the mess hall door and Irene almost ran into him on the way out. Her breath caught in her throat and she could practically feel Shirley staring holes in the back of her head. Hawk smiled broadly and Irene dumped her tray, keeping her distance.

“I got the supplies together,” he said, handing her a bag. “You ready to go?”

“Don’t you think you should stay with your patients?”

“This again? I’m getting the feeling you’re trying to blow me off. If I did something, I wish you’d tell me.”

“It’s not that. I just thought… maybe you had something more important to do here is all. Hyunjoo is well enough to travel now after all and I’m sure BJ could go with me.”

Hawkeye followed her across the compound, all hint of smile gone. “I thought we were getting along fine. Did I do something? Say something?”

It ate at her that he thought it had something to do with him and not Shirley. She stopped in front of the Swamp and glanced at the mess hall. For a moment she considered telling him everything but the knot in her stomach stopped her. He might not believe her anyway.

“No, you didn’t do anything.”

“Great,” he said, hiking the bag onto his shoulder. “Then I’m going with you. Besides, I want to check her over myself.”

“You don’t think BJ and me could handle it?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” she grumbled, turning to walk away. “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Shirley called from behind them. Hawk turned and she practically leapt into his arms. “Be careful out there.” She kissed Hawkeye’s cheek.

Irene bristled.

Hawk opened his mouth to speak but Shirley cut him off.

“Wow, Foster, you don’t look so good,” she said, voice full of mock concern. “Are you sure you should be walking that far?”

“I feel fine,” Irene said.

“If you say so.”

“We better get going or we won’t make it back before we go on shift,” Hawkeye said.

“How about one to tide me over?” Shirley asked, standing on her toes and offering her lips to him.

Hawk gave her a quick peck, but Shirley pouted until he kissed her again, lingering longer this time.

“That’s better. I’ll see you later,” she said with a final glare at Irene.

Irene didn’t wait around for Hawkeye to say anything. She adjusted her pack and began to walk up the dusty road.

The sun was warm on her shoulders but a breeze from the west kept her comfortable. Alice had warned her of days like this when the weather was warm enough for sunbathing. She called it the calm before the storm, nature’s way of tricking them into thinking the winter would be mild only to hit them with a knockout left hook.

Puffy white clouds drifted lazily, reflecting onto the winding river that flowed beside the road. The water could be seen through thick weeds and cat tails and on occasion the shimmering scales of fish could be seen as they leapt from the water for insects that flew too close to the surface.

Hawkeye fell in beside her but remained quiet. Surely he realized how tense and awkward the moment had been with Shirley. Perhaps he didn’t know what to say about it. She wouldn’t if the roles were swapped.

They walked nearly a mile before he broke the silence.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I feel fine.” Lies. Nausea crept up on her and the once pleasant breeze had turned cold to her skin which was covered in goosebumps and her legs were feeling heavier with every step.

“You’re really pale,” he said, grabbing her arm to stop her. “And you’re burning up.” His hand pressed to her cheek, then her forehead, his brows drawn together.

“I can make it,” she insisted, catching his wrist as he checked her temperature and pushing it away when a wave of dizziness hit her and she gripped tightly to his arm.

“Two miles like this? Not a chance. You need to sit down.” He lead her to a boulder on the side of the road. “We should turn back.”

“No. Hyunjoo’s family needs these supplies to survive the journey south. Take it. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“I’m not leaving you like this,” he said, kneeling in the dirt in front of her. “What are your symptoms?”

“Nausea. And fatigue. I won’t lie, I kind of want to lay down and stay here forever.”

“I think you have food poisoning. Here, drink this.” He handed her a canteen. “You’re not vomiting yet but I want you to be well hydrated just in case.”

Irene sipped the water and her thoughts turned to Shirley. Had she given her tainted food for breakfast? Although she didn’t want to believe she’d been deliberately poisoned, Shirley’s previous behavior made her wonder what the woman was capable of.

“I keep telling you the food is dangerous. What did you eat?”

“Not much. Bacon. A few bites of egg.”

“Nothing I didn’t eat. And I got to breakfast before you.”

“Maybe it’s something from last night.”

“Maybe,” he mused. “I ate at Rosie’s last night. We should hurry up. If it was something from last night, we might have an outbreak on our hands.”

“Go back if you want, but I’m getting these supplies to the village,” Irene said. She stood and stumbled forward.

Hawkeye caught her and she clung to the front of his shirt, closing her eyes to ease the nausea. Stars flickered behind her eyelids and she knew it was only going to get worse.

“You’re not giving me much choice. Sit down. Slowly. There.” He took a seat beside her.

She wanted to lean against him but kept herself sitting up instead. Hawk was staring at her, worry etched on his face. His eyes met hers and she felt the urge to touch his cheek. She let her gaze drop to his hand where he braced on the rock.

“I’ll take her the medicine and I’ll be right back,” he said at last. “Promise you won’t go anywhere. And stay out of the sun. When I get back, I expect you to still be here on this very rock, under this very tree. Understood?”

“Yeah.”

“Just sit here and sip your water. I’ll be back as fast as I can.” He squeezed her hand, kissed her knuckles, then stroked her cheek.

Irene closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, gritting her teeth. Why did this feel like torture? She didn’t want him to go and he seemed not to either, but it wasn’t right and that hurt nearly as bad as her cramping belly.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured, and he set off down the road, looking back several times before he rounded the bend and was out of sight.

Once he was gone Irene touched her hand where he’d kissed it and silently cursed him.

* * *

It took nearly two hours for Hawkeye to walk the four miles round trip from where he’d left Irene. Hyunjoo had met him at the edge of the destroyed village with her brother and he was lucky enough to be able to explain it all to Jiho, pass off the supplies, and rush back.

He jogged around the last bend, anxious to catch sight of Irene; make sure she was alright. At first, he didn’t see her and his heart skipped a beat, but as he neared he realized she’d laid across the bolder, right where he’d left her.

“Irene,” he called before he got to her, but she didn’t respond. The smell of vomit wafted on the breeze and her canteen was laying on the ground, water soaked into the dirt.

There was no reply when he called her name again and she barely moved when he touched her. “Damn,” he sighed, his head dropping. She was alive.

“Hawk?” she whispered.

“I’m here.” He pushed a lock of hair from her face. Her skin was hot to the touch, hair clinging to sweat.

“Where am I?” she asked, a soft sob breaking her voice.

“We went to deliver medicine, but you got sick. Remember?” Hawk tried to sit her up and she pressed her face into his shoulder. She shook all over.

“Where did you go? You were gone so long.”

He wasn’t expecting her to break down crying or clinging to him with whatever strength she had left.

“I know, I’m sorry. Shh, it’s okay now. I’ve got you.” He held her tight and rocked her. When he’d dreamt of her finally letting him hold her, this wasn’t what he’d imagined. She was delirious with fever and likely too weak to walk. “We have to get you back to camp.”

“Camp,” she repeated, not so much a question as a statement, as if she was trying to catch the tail end of an idea to solidify it in her mind.

In the distance heavy artillery fire started and Hawkeye turned his head toward the sound. They’d have to get back to camp soon or they’d be in worse shape than they already were.

He positioned himself to hoist her onto his back but reconsidered when it occurred to him that it would put pressure on her stomach and likely have her throwing up whatever water she’d managed to keep down. The mortar fire started again, and he panicked, scooping her up in his arms.

The long walk had already drained him, and he was struggling to carry her, his boots scuffing across the rocky road. His muscles burned and he couldn’t catch his breath. Irene’s limp body nearly dragged him down a few times before he had to stop. He’d only traveled a few hundred feet and the artillery sounded closer. Sweat dripped into his eyes and his legs trembled under the strain.

A familiar whistling sound alerted Hawkeye to the coming explosion. He practically dove off the side of the road into the tall grass, shielding Irene with his body. One arm wrapped around her head and the other covered the back of his neck as dirt and debris rained down on them.

The next explosion was a little farther away and Hawk rose to his hands and knees over Irene. Her breathing was ragged, dirt caked to the sweat that had coated her face. He wiped the grime from her cheek and she blinked up at him with half-open eyes.

Hawkeye looked around in desperation. There was no way he could carry her back without help but leaving her was too dangerous.

“I need to find somewhere safe so I can go get help.”

“Don’t go, please don’t go.” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled, trying to sit up. “I’ll go with you. I can walk, just don’t leave.”

She barely made it to her knees and another round exploded nearby. Hawkeye picked her up again and ran as fast as he could manage toward a water drain under the road. The water level was low, and the pipe was dried out. He sat her on a log that had wedged itself near the entrance. She leaned back against the metal wall of the pipe but refused to let him go.

Hawkeye slipped off his shirt and wrapped it around her, buttoning part of it to keep it from falling off. Immediately she started dry heaving, not even having water left to vomit. He held her shoulders to keep her upright and when she calmed once more, he eased her back again. Tears streaked her dirt coated cheeks and she shook violently with every explosion.

“Wait,” she said, touching his arm to draw him back. “Be careful.”

He brought her hand up to his face and held it there. “I will. And you stay awake if you can. Don’t go outside and stay quiet. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Before he left he kissed her forehead, then took off up the embankment and to the road. When he was sure it as safe, he ran toward camp, spurred on by fear and adrenaline. Even that couldn’t last long and soon his lungs burned and legs threatened to give in. He could hardly keep his eyes open but he dared not stop moving.

Dust coated his tongue and his heart pounded in his ears. Colonel Potter rode his brown mare toward Hawkeye, pulling her to a stop a few feet away.

“What in the Sam hill happened to you, Pierce? You look like you lost a fight with a dust devil.”

“I need help,” he said through gasps of air. “Irene… we went to take supplies to a family in the old village. She’s…. I had to leave her.”

“What?”

“Food poisoning. I need a jeep to go back for her. She can’t walk and I couldn’t carry her.”

Potter dismounted and handed Hawkeye the reins.

“We had two jeeps leave for the 8063rd ten minutes ago. The only other ones we’ve got are as unreliable as peace talks. Take Sophie and be careful out there! That shelling it a might close for my taste.”

Hawkeye clumsily mounted Sophie, the mare spinning in circles as he oriented himself. He got her stopped and headed in the right direction before speaking to Potter.

“Has anyone else showed signs of food poisoning?”

“Not a one. I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Get a bed ready for her. And saline. She’s very dehydrated already.” Hawk urged Sophie forward and they were off in a flash, hooves kicking up dust.

The shelling had backed off by the time he neared the pipe. He swung his legs over Sophie’s back before she came to a stop and dropped the reins before sliding down the embankment. Down in the pipe Irene was curled up, legs pulled close to her chest. She flinched when he touched her but upon looking at his face she fell forward into his arms, crying, and muttering incoherently.

“C’mon, let’s get you out of here,” he said, straining to lift her.

Irene wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on as tightly as she could before he trudged up the hill to where Sophie was waiting patiently, unbothered by the mortar fire that had gone farther into the mountains and away from camp. The horse stared at him with her big brown eyes while Hawk hoisted Irene into the saddle.

Hawk panted, hands gripping Irene’s leg and the back of the saddle to stabilize himself before climbing up behind her. Irene laid back against him and was asleep before they got back to camp.

When they arrived, Potter took Sophie’s reins and BJ helped Irene down to carry her into post-op. Hawkeye dismounted to follow, but Shirley stopped him. He looked over her head and in the window to the post-op ward.

“You look terrible,” she said, putting her hands on his cheeks so he would meet her gaze. “What happened?”

“Irene has a bad case of food poisoning. She’s got a high fever and is severely dehydrated. I should go help.”

“She’s in capable hands. You go get cleaned up and rest,” Shirley urged. She took his hands and lead him toward the Swamp, but he kept looking over his shoulder. “Go on now, she’ll be fine.”

Hawkeye relented and gathered his things for a quick shower before collapsing in his own cot. Shirley had left him alone with the promise that she’d wake him as soon as Irene was stable and could answer some more questions. He just simply couldn’t understand what had made her so violently ill when no one else showed symptoms. These thoughts in mind, his body gave out to dreamless sleep.


	10. The Truth Overflows

10

The Truth Overflows

“It just beats all,” Potter mused, reading over Irene’s chart for the millionth time since the day before. “Not a single other case in the whole camp. I just don’t understand.”

“Are you sure you didn’t eat anything else?” BJ asked.

“Nothing that wasn’t from the mess tent,” Irene answered.

“Well, you’re doing a lot better now. I expect you’ll be back on your feet in no time,” Potter said. “Get some rest and if you need anything, you let us know.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Potter turned to call for Radar, but the boy was already there. “Dammit Radar, you’re gonna give me a heart attack. Stop doin’ that.”

“Sorry sir. I have those three day passes you asked for.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Potter said to Irene. “There’s a small convention that we’re required to attend at the end of the week, and I took the liberty of volunteering you and Lt. O’Neil. I figure you could use a little trip to shake off those food poisoning blues.”

“Are you sure Colonel? Shouldn’t a more experienced nurse go?”

“No, the convention isn’t necessarily mandatory. Really, there was ah… someone who requested you go.” Potter glanced at BJ.

“It’s alright sir. BJ knows who my father is.”

“Oh?” Potter look at BJ who simply shrugged with a little grin, then turned back to Irene. “Alright then, General Foster is in Tokyo for a couple of weeks for some R&R and he wanted you to visit for a few days. We’re expecting a nice slow streak ahead, so I didn’t have any objection.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s been a while since I was able to see him.”

“It’s no trouble. Just do me one little favor. I heard about what you did for that Korean family. Next time, I’d appreciate it if you tell me first before filching supplies.”

“Sorry, sir. I’ll be more responsible next time.”

“See that you are. Anyway, we’ll get outta your hair now. Get some rest.”

Potter and BJ walked away but Radar shuffled his feet and came between the cots. “Can I talk to you a minute?”

“Of course, Radar. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, no, nothing ma’am! I just uh…”

“Sit,” Irene said, patting the bed beside her.

Radar hesitated but took a seat anyway, rubbing his hands on his pants. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Better than yesterday. You look nervous. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Well I just…” he glanced around. “Can I tell you something, but you not tell the person I heard tellin’ about it?”

“I barely understood that but if you have something to say, I promise I won’t tell.”

“See, I was comin’ back from Sophie’s stable and I heard Lt. O’Neil talkin’ to Lt. Jones and she said she thought Lt. Grey poisoned you. Would she do a thing like that? She’s always so good with the wounded and… and she’s always been real sweet to me.”

Irene didn’t know how to respond. “Don’t you worry about that, Radar. Shirley doesn’t have anything against you and I can’t prove that she had anything to do with my food poisoning.”

“Then why would Lt. O’Neil say those things?”

“If I tell you, can you promise to keep it between us?”

Radar nodded.

“Well, you know Shirley and Hawkeye are sort of an item, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve seen ‘em around a few times.”

“And you’ve been around a while, right?”

“Since day one.”

“Then you know how Hawkeye is with nurses.”

Radar snorted. “Oh yeah, he’s got a reputation.”

“Let’s just say Shirley doesn’t appreciate the attention he’s been paying me.”

“But enough to poison you?”

“Now Radar, I never said that. But she’s been openly upset about it and I think that’s where Alice got the idea.”

“If you want, I can tell Hawkeye to lay off.”

“That’s alright,” Irene grinned, patting his hand. “You’re sweet to offer though. I’ll have a talk with him next time I see him.”

“What are you gunna tell him? I thought you liked Hawkeye and I know he likes you.”

“Ah, well, I’m not sure what I’m going to say.”

“Well, you better figure it out cuz here he comes.” Radar stood and went back to Colonel Potter’s outer office to watch through the widow as Hawkeye came through the side door.

Irene adjusted herself on her pillows and pulled the blanket up to her chest. He approached with a tightlipped smile and looked over her chart for himself. Apparently, the day hadn’t been kind to him. Dark circles under his eyes and paleness to his cheeks made her wonder if he’d slept at all.

His brow furrowed and he cursed under his breath before hanging the chart at the end of her cot and checking her IV, taking her hand in his when he was finished. He tried to smile at her, but it was weak.

“You look terrible,” she said, wishing she didn’t enjoy his touch.

“I was worried.”

“Didn’t you sleep?”

“For a little while but I couldn’t get the image of you…” he cut himself off and rubbed his face with one hand.

“BJ and Potter told me what you did for me. Thank you. I’m sorry I don’t remember much.”

“What do you remember?”

“Just bits and pieces really. It’s not important. But I do need to talk to you about something that is.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about this,” she said, wiggling her fingers that were still trapped in his grasp. “See, there’s a lady that doesn’t appreciate you giving me the kind of attention you seem to be quite fond of.”

Hawkeye’s expression fell. “Nurse Grey? I know what it looks like, but Shirley and I are—”

“It doesn’t matter. She seems to think the two of you are exclusive. I think that’s a conversation the two of you need to have. But even if you do,” Irene said as Hawkeye opened his mouth. “I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t want a man I have to share. I think perhaps… perhaps we shouldn’t be around each other in a personal setting.”

What was this? Her throat was swelling as she spoke, and her chest felt tight. She wanted to cry and the deflated look in his blue eyes only made the feeling worse. At first, she thought he was going to argue the point, but he did worse. He nodded and gave her hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“I understand. If you change your mind, you know the address.”

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

“Yeah. Me too. If you need anything, just…”

“I know. Thanks again.”

He didn’t speak another word but the force in which he opened the side door spoke volumes. There was a fair bit of guilt hanging over Irene’s shoulders. She didn’t want to tell him she remembered him carrying her, shielding her from explosions, and the way she clung to him when he finally returned for her. In a way she felt she’d lead him on. In another, she hated having to deny that she only wanted to be close to him. It was better she cut it off now before it grew into something she couldn’t control.

The trip to Tokyo would take some heat off the situation. All she could do was sit back, rest, and hope that by the time she and Alice returned life in the 4077th would be back to normal.


	11. Hello, Tokyo

**11**

**Hello, Tokyo**

Tokyo was everything Irene had dreamed and more. She’d been to her fair share of cities back in the states, but Tokyo was a completely different animal. There was so much to do, so much to explore, and with the convention only taking a few hours a day, the two nurses had free time to enjoy themselves.

It was easy to see how people could be so enamored by it. Three days hadn’t been long enough for Irene. She felt there was so much more to see but in twenty-four hours they would be back in Korea. Back to terrible food, long hours at the operating table, and a certain couple that were causing her more trouble than she’d ever asked for.

Meeting with her father had gone well and she wished she had more time to spend with him, but he had his own agenda while in the city. Irene understood. R&R or not, General Foster was a work-a-holic. He’d spend his time in Tokyo catching up with old military friends, learning new strategies, or catching up on paperwork. Anything he could to “stay sharp” as he put it.

Their last night in Tokyo they decided to do what they came for and went to a bath house. Music could he heard playing from the next room and the hot water of the bath melted the tension from Irene’s muscles.

“What’s on your mind?” Alice asked, swimming over to the side of the soaking tub where Irene sat, a bath attendant washing her hair.

“Hm? Oh, nothing.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Alice smirked. “You’ve been distracted this whole trip.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Irene, you told a Major to have a nice day when he asked you what unit you work for. When your dad asked you how you were settling in you said something about Colonel Potter’s horse. So, you wanna tell me what’s on your mind or do I have to guess?”

“I don’t think you could guess if you tried.”

“Bet I could. Bet it has something to do with a starry-eyed doctor and a viper in scrubs.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Everyone sees it.”

Irene sank her head halfway underwater and released a stream of bubbles.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Alice giggled. “Hawk has his go at every nurse that sets foot in camp. This is just the first time a girl he’s been involved with has been so jealous about it.”

“I try to avoid him,” Irene said, coming back up and wiping her face off.

“He’s persistent.”

“Every nurse? Really?”

“Well, almost every nurse.”

“Even you?”

“He tried, but he’s not my type. I like soldiers, not doctors. However, I will say Hawkeye has a sort of charm about him. He’s sweet and gentle and funny.”

“Hmm…”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think Shirley poisoned you?”

The bath attendant began to rinse Irene’s hair, giving her a moment to focus on something other than answering Alice’s question. She didn’t want to tell Alice that Radar had overheard her speaking about the incident, but she had to stop her friend from saying anything else about to anyone.

Once the attendant was finished, she bowed and walked out. Irene sighed.

“C’mon Irene. You’re the only person on the whole compound that got sick.”

“I know, I know. Look, I can’t prove she did anything but…”

“But what? You’re killing me here.”

“Shirley brought me breakfast that morning.”

“So, she did poison you! I knew it! You should tell Hawkeye. Or Potter.”

“Hold on,” Irene raised a hand. “I’ve already told Captain Pierce that we can’t be around each other in private anymore. I’ve thought about it and that’s the best course of action. Shirley might be unstable, but she’s only like that toward me and it’s all because of him.”

“But Irene—”

“No, I’ve already decided. Shirley is great with her patients and she’s a competent nurse. Getting her in trouble over a guy seems… I don’t know.”

“She might have poisoned you.”

“Over Pierce. If we’re not together outside of work, it’ll go back to normal.”

“But what about Hawk?”

“What about him?”

“Don’t you like him?”

Irene shrugged and scrubbed her arms with a sponge, working the soap into a lather. “He’s a fantastic doctor.”

“That’s it?”

“What?”

“You two are so cute together and the way he looks at you—"

“He’s taken and I’m not into that kind of thing. I want a man who’s going to be as devoted to me as I am to him. Hawkeye can’t offer me that so what’s the point? Care about a man I won’t ever keep?”

“I know you like him. You can’t deny it. I’ve seen you blush when he gets too close and you said his name when you were in fever dreams after your food poisoning. Jokes aside, you have it bad.”

“It doesn’t matter. The whole thing is a disaster from top to bottom.”

“You can’t keep going like this, though. I think you should get those thoughts off your chest. Why don’t you write a letter to him but never send it?”

“My mother used to tell me to do that,” Irene grinned. “When I was a kid I did it a lot to get my head clear. She died while I was in nursing school. I remember writing pages and pages to get my feelings out. Yeah… I think I’ll write something.”

Alice sighed. “It’s so tragic. Star crossed lovers, torn by the ravages of war.”

“You’re silly.”

“Really though, I’m still sorry it has to be this way.”

Irene smiled and shook her head but deep down, she was sorry too.


	12. Freedom... For A Price

**12**

**Freedom… For A Price**

“Hawk, if you don’t sit down, I’ll be forced to nail you to your cot,” BJ grumbled from his bed.

“I can’t help it.” Hawkeye slammed his towel on the bed.

“Please tell me this childish display isn’t about your recent dismissal by one lovely doe-eyed nurse. Surely you’re accustomed to such rejections by now.”

“You don’t understand. She was clinging to me,” Hawk insisted, grabbing the front of his own shirt. “Begging me not to leave and now she’s telling me we can’t be around each other except in the OR? What am I supposed to do with that? It’s driving me crazy.”

“The poor woman was deliriously ill,” Winchester argued. “She was feverish and afraid. She would have clung for dear life at the first person to present themselves as safety; whether it be your or that hairy delinquent that parades about as a Corporal. You cannot hold her accountable for actions performed in the heat of violent illness.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Winchester’s right. Irene shot you down from day one. If she’d given you the time of day, you’d have had your fun and be on the to next nurse by now.” BJ laid back down on his cot and tossed his baseball in the air, continuing his game of catch while Hawkeye kicked his footlocker.

“What, you think this is about conquest?”

“Hasn’t it always been?”

“It’s different with Irene.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so set on her. You already have the most beautiful nurse in the whole camp. Why can’t you be satisfied with her?”

Hawkeye couldn’t answer. He flopped down on his cot and stared up at the ceiling. He’d done what Irene wanted to the letter. Even when she was well again and left for Tokyo, he only waved from afar even though he wanted nothing more than to grab her up and kiss her. The days passed like cold molasses and he’d thought of a million things to say to her when he saw her again, which if his clock was right, would be any time within the next hour.

Also, in that same hour, would be a date with Nurse Grey. A few weeks ago, he’d have beamed at the very thought of taking her off toward the river and having an intimate picnic under the full moon but now his heart wasn’t in it. But pride wouldn’t let him tell her he wasn’t interested anymore. BJ was right. Most of the nurses in the compound were beautiful but Shirley Grey could have been a model or actress.

He rolled over in his cot. It seemed he was trying to talk himself into staying with her more and more lately. If he wanted a chance with Irene, he’d have to put his more lecherous ways to rest. Another thing he wasn’t so sure about. There had been a few women he’d been willing to do that for until he was tested, then he always fell apart. Something about commitment…he rolled over the other way.

“I think the barrel rolls are more annoying than the pacing.”

The sound of jeeps entering the compound had Hawkeye nearly tripping over his own feet to get out of the tent. Irene and Alice sat in the back of the second jeep, the pair of them talking and laughing. Irene’s eyes met his as the jeep passed the Swamp to stop in front of Potter’s office.

Hawkeye jogged over but Irene had already gone inside to report back to Potter while Alice led a corpsman with their bags back to A tent. Hawk decided to follow her instead, taking a bag from her hand.

“Hiya, Hawkeye,” she smirked, eyeing him up and down. “Can I help you?”

“Ah, maybe. See, I was wondering how Irene was doing with her sickness and recovery and stuff.”

“She’s been just fine. The weekend was a perfect getaway.”

“Did she say anything about me?”

“You know, I knew what you wanted but you definitely broke down before I thought you would.”

“So did she?”

“Maybe,” Alice giggled. “But I can’t tell you one way or another. Girl talk, you know?”

“I’ll get you anything you want, just tell me.”

“Desperation doesn’t look good on you, Hawk.” Alice turned her back to the tent door but when she peered around him her smile dropped. “Sorry, I should really get unpacking. It’s been a long trip.”

When he turned to see what changed her demeanor, she ducked into the tent, only reaching out to grab the bags from Hawkeye and the corpsman before locking the door behind herself.

Shirley bounced along toward the tent, smile wide and shorts baring her perfect legs. She was trying to get his attention. It was too cold for shorts, but she wore a turtleneck sweater to make up for it and Hawkeye had to admit his jaw was on the floor for a moment. She threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek before leaning back, her hands behind his head, fingers twirling his hair.

“I was wondering where you’d gotten off to,” she said. “You didn’t forget we have a date tonight?”

“No, no, no, I remember. How could I forget?”

“Good. I was getting a little worried that you’d try to replace me with Alice.”

The look she gave him was like a knife in the chest and all his resolve to break it off with her went out the window. Her red lips trembled, and he gave in with a halfhearted smile.

“Who would ever be dumb enough to do that?”

Shirley pulled him in and kissed him and for a moment he was lost in it; the way she pressed against him and openly slipped her tongue past his teeth.

“Excuse me. I hope I’m not interrupting but you’re blocking the way into my tent.”

Irene’s voice had Hawkeye practically ripping away from Shirley. She stood nearby, bag in hand, staring at him. Despite the playful tone of her voice he could see the disappointment in her eyes.

“Sorry, Lieutenant,” Shirley said. “We’ll get out of your hair now. C’mon Hawk. Let’s start our date a little early.”

Shirley grabbed his hands and pulled him but for all his looking back, Irene never returned his gaze. By the second time she was gone, disappeared into her tent. For all his luck, things were only getting worse.

Why the hell was it driving him so buggy? It was just one little ol’ nurse. What if BJ and Winchester were right? What if it was just a conquest thing? What if he was only going looney because he had a grand vision of her in his head and if he got what he wanted he’d lose interest?

He refused to look over his shoulder again, instead focusing on the swaying hips of Lt. Shirley Grey. If there was nothing else the Army was good for, they could make some well-cut shorts. Coincidentally Nurse Grey’s mother was just as good at making legs. He smiled and wondered how Nurse Foster’s cute little rear would look in those Army shorts.

 _Dammit, Hawkeye_ , he cursed himself. He’d have to hope that the distance would be enough to put him on ice and get his mind back on track… whatever that meant.

“Oh, I forgot something in my tent,” Shirley said as they neared the Swamp. “I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”

“Take your time.”

Shirley kissed his cheek and trotted off toward across the compound. Hawkeye nearly fell through his door.

“What’s wrong?” BJ asked, not looking up from his letter. “Your love triangle getting to be too much to handle?”

“There’s no triangle. But I need a drink.”

“Just finished a batch. Pour me a specimen jar and take the rest on your date. You look like you need it more than I do.”

Hawk chugged a glass, gritting his teeth as the gin burned its way down to his gut. “Good year.”

“Actually, it’s been a lousy year, but the gin’s not bad.”

“I’m going to go and enjoy this date if it kills me.”

“Keep drinking like that and you’ll get there by the end of the night.”

Hawk downed his third glass and put some in a bottle to take with him. “At least then I’d get some relief.” He pulled on his Hawaiian shirt, fumbling with the buttons.

“Have fun. Don’t stay out too late,” BJ said, waving Hawkeye off.

Shirley was coming back by the time he got outside. She’d changed into a long yellow kimono and touched up her makeup. A small basket was in her hands, full of treats.

“I got us chocolate-covered strawberries,” she beamed. “I had Radar get them in from Seoul and they just got in earlier today.”

“That’s fantastic.”

“You don’t sound very excited.”

“Sorry, I haven’t been sleeping well. Guess it’s catching up to me.”

“Don’t worry,” she twisted a finger under one of the buttons on his shirt. “I have something in mind that’ll make you sleep like a baby.”

He grinned but the thought of being intimate with her wasn’t as appealing as it should have been. There had to be something seriously wrong with him. He swore he’d enjoy the date, and he was determined to do so. One way or another, he was going to find the attraction for her that was lost when Irene walked into camp.

“Where are you taking me tonight, doctor?” she asked, hooking her hand around his arm.

This was it; the first steps toward getting his life back to normal. “Well first we have to stop by the mess tent. I had Igor put together something special. Then, I thought we’d take a stroll by the river, eat some dinner, and maybe I can have you for dessert.”

“But that’s what the strawberries are for.”

“Didn’t you know my favorite dessert is chocolate covered strawberry coated nurse?”

Shirley laughed and smacked his shoulder. “You’re too much.”

“Oh good, I was worried I wasn’t coming across strong enough.”

Hawkeye’s stomach growled when he picked up the food from the mess tent and he shuddered at the thought of his guts betraying his taste buds. The strawberries would more than make up for it later. He grabbed some utensils and a couple glasses for the gin when Alice and Irene walked in. She didn’t notice him so he slipped out the side door before she could get in line but it was still enough to set his brain back to square one.

“Dammit,” he grumbled.

“What’s wrong, darling?” Shirley held his hand and leaned into him, batting her long eyelashes.

“Oh uh, the cook was out of ice cream.”

“Ice cream? Isn’t it a little cold for ice cream?”

“Yeah…. Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“You seem distracted. Do you need to go back to bed?”

“No, no. I’m fine. Really. This is just what I need.” He put an arm around her shoulders and she absolutely beamed at him.

The evening proved to be as cold as Hawkeye thought it would be, the chill setting in before the sun had disappeared below the horizon. Gave Shirley reason to cuddle closer and Hawk a reason to continue his study of anatomy. He cupped her chin in his hand and kissed her, then worked his way across her jaw to her ear. She giggled but didn’t shy away.

Her skin was soft, warm, and her perfume smelled of flowers. Shirley sighed and tangled her fingers in his hair as he nibbled down to her collar bone. Those damn flowers. Why flowers? She could smell like anything else. Citrus, vanilla, the ocean… she could have chosen to smell like the woods for all he cared but no, it had to be flowers.

“Oh Hawkeye,” she whispered. “You’re wonderful.”

“Just wait, I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet.”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Anything,” he mumbled but didn’t stop checking the pulse in her throat with his lips.

“You and I, we’ve been having a lot of fun.”

“More than you can shake a stick at.”

Shirley pushed him from her neck to kiss him, then give him the same treatment he’d given her. She traced his lips with her fingers then bit him lightly under his ear.

“But I don’t just want the fun,” she said, breathing onto his neck. Goosebumps raced up his arms and he realized why all the nurses he’d used that trick on said it was unfair. “I want something with you.”

His eyes rolled back when she used her thumb to raise his head and kissed his jawline. He didn’t usually get a woman who was so forward, but Shirley had always taken him of guard. That’s what he’d been attracted to in the first place.

“Anything you want, Irene.”

Shirley froze harder than a glacier and he realized what he’d done. Damn that flower perfume.

“I’m sorry—” he began but a hard slap to the face stopped him in his tracks.

“I can’t believe you Hawkeye! I just… I can’t deal with you right now.”

Hawk clutched at his cheek while she stormed off toward the compound. He fell back onto the blanket and stared up at the night sky.

“So much for getting your head together,” he sighed. His cheek throbbed but the sting to his heart was worse. In all the time Shirley had been in camp she’d been nothing but warm, bubbly, friendly, and a compassionate nurse to the patients. Getting slapped was something he’d done before, but this… he’d really screwed up this time.

And yet…

Maybe it was for the best. Irene said she didn’t want to share and if Hawk had learned one thing in his life it was that a slap to the cheek was as good as divorce. There was no chance in hell Shirley would let him near her again with a ten-foot pole. It was a terrible waste of a woman but there was also relief in it. No more pacing like a crazy man over a nurse he couldn’t have. He could go to her first thing in the morning and tell her they could be friends. More if she wanted.

He sure wanted.


	13. Cruel Joke

**13**

**Cruel Joke**

Back in the Swamp Hawk tossed aside his Hawaiian shirt in favor of his robe, tying it loosely around his hips. He checked out his face in the mirror. The defined shape of a hand was gone but a faint bruise was visible across his cheek bone. Shirley had slapped him harder than he thought. He prodded the purple mark and winced.

A commotion outside caught Hawkeye’s attention. Men from all over could be seen flocking to the showers, then running off to get their friends. In a matter of minutes there was a hoard of them out in the compound, swarmed around the showers.

Curiosity got to him and he sauntered outside, hands deep in his pockets. The guys in the back of the crowd tried their best to see over the others and a group of nurses from B tent were watching and laughing. Hawk didn’t recognize any of the men and assumed they were soldiers stopping in on their way to the front.

“I haven’t seen a line like this since those new business girls started at Rosie’s.”

“There’s a nurse in there,” a Corporal grinned. “You have any idea the last time I saw a girl?”

“Wait, you’ve got a nurse trapped in there? Move it Corporal.”

Hawkeye pushed his way through the crowd, squeezing between men, every trace of humor gone. A woman stood in the second stall, as far from the door as she could manage. She’d wedged herself into the corner, her face hidden but he didn’t need to see her face to know she was crying.

“Get out you vultures!” he yelled at the men, using his arms to block them from entering. “Show’s over.”

“Who the hell are you? Get lost,” one of the men said.

“Aw, c’mon,” another laughed. “We was just joshin’”

“We’ll see who’s laughing when I use my Captain’s bars to beat you back down to Private, Sergeant. Now get out.”

The Sergeant’s smile dropped, and he grew angry. Hawk could smell the liquor on him but that didn’t deter him. He only stood up straighter. The Sergeant lunged at him and Hawkeye punched him square in the eye. A couple Corporal’s caught their buddy and held him back from going after the doctor.

“Sorry Doc, he’s drunk,” one of them said. “We’ll get him outta here.”

They dragged the Sergeant away and the heard of men went with them, grumbling and kicking pebbles in the dirt.

Hawk clutched his hand to his chest before flexing it to ensure it wasn’t broken. The skin was already growing darker and he cursed under his breath. There’d be questions regarding his appearance and not a one he cared to answer.

The door swung closed and something hit the outside but nothing else happened. He peeked through the canvas window cover to see the group had completely dispersed except for the gaggle of nurses who were still waiting around.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asked.

The nurse peered over the top of the shower, eyes red and puffy.

Irene.

His stomach dropped and he stripped off his robe, handing it over to her. She pulled it on with trembling hands, clutching the fabric around her so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

“I’ll be fine,” she said, wiping her tears on the sleeve.

“What happened?”

Irene hesitated, eyes darting toward the door. “Oh, nothing. One of the girls took my towel and robe. Just a little prank is all. I’m sure it wasn’t meant to go this far.”

She couldn’t hold his gaze and flinched when he went to her and lifted her chin so she’d look him in the eye.

“Who did this?”

“It’s not important, Hawkeye. Honestly.”

“You know, there’s nothing I can do if you don’t give me names.”

“You don’t have to do anything at all. You’ve done enough,” she said, removing his hand from her chin to view the bruises on his knuckles. “Thank you.”

A grin twitched the corner of his lips at the sight of her small frame in his robe. It could nearly wrap twice around her, and the hem hung around her ankles. “You have to be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She blushed. “Captain, please.”

Hawk took her hands in his own, his thumbs pressed into her palms. They way she looked up at him with those big brown eyes made him melt and the urge to kiss her overwhelmed him. He leaned in close, but she pulled away, slipping out of his grasp. Her eyes dropped to the floor; arms wrapped tight around herself.

“I’ll get your robe back to you later. Thank you again, Pierce.”

And with that, she was gone.

He stepped out into the compound where the nurses who had been lurking around earlier were long gone. They probably didn’t want the tongue lashing he was going to unleash on whoever was responsible for what had happened.

“What was all that about?” BJ asked as he held the Swamp door open for Hawk.

Hawkeye explained the shower incident, practically ripping off his boots and throwing them in the corner. The more he thought about it, the more worked up he became.

“I know I’ve played my fair share of pranks, but this…”

“Hawk, you’ve had pranks go bad too. Maybe whoever did it just didn’t think about the soldiers being in camp.”

“Still though, she could have been—”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t a dumb choice. I’m just saying that I think you’re so upset because of who is happened to, and not that it happened.”

Hawkeye huffed and sat in his chair. BJ handed him a martini and sat at the edge of his bed.

“So, you want to tell me what happened to your face or did you run into a doorknob?”

“Shirley.”

“She hit you?”

“I uh… might have said the wrong nurses’ name while neck deep in a physical exam.”

BJ laughed hysterically, slapping his knee and nearly spilling his drink. Hawkeye glared at BJ but the man kept laughing until Hawk threw a boot at him.

“Oh man, you’ve got it bad. I guess you’ll go for Irene now that Shirley’s decided your face works better as a punching bag?”

“I already have a reason to go see her. I gave her my bathrobe to spare her running across camp in her birthday suit, though I’ll admit I would have liked to see that under better circumstances.”

“Think you should wait a little while before you go after her.”

“You’re being rational now?”

“One of us has to be.” BJ stood and poured himself a new drink. “You’re gonna do what you’re gonna do, but maybe you should let the dust settle first.”

Hawk lay back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “That might cost my sanity, but I think you’re right. Besides, like I said, she has my bathrobe. She has to come around some time to bring it back.”

“Good. Now that that’s settled maybe you can stop doing barrel rolls at night and get some rest.”

“You going to bed?”

“Yeah, I have post-op duty first thing in the morning.”

“I don’t know if I can sleep.”

“As long as you let me sleep, I won’t have to put a matching bruise on your other cheek.”

BJ downed his glass and collapsed into his bunk and turned off his light. Hawk reached over and turned off his own but he remained in his chair to stare at the ceiling in the dark and daydream about Irene Foster and how cute she was in his robe… and the fact that she was stark naked under it. If he’d not washed it before, he’d certainly never wash it again.

What a dream.


	14. First and Last

**14**

**First And Last**

Irene had waited until she saw BJ and Hawkeye leave the Swamp before she snuck over and returned his robe, leaving it neatly folded at the end of his cot. Had the laundry been empty she would have left it there as she had his jacket. It was bad enough that all the girls in A tent saw her in it when she came back from the showers and who knew what other witnesses there had been to her sprinting across the compound in Hawkeye’s bathrobe. She’d barely had time to duck back in her tent when a wave of casualties came in. Choppers loaded, litter jeeps overflowing, evac busses filled to bursting and they just kept coming.

Margaret put her with Hawkeye again, but this time Shirley bit her tongue. For a moment, Irene thought Hawk would object, but he clenched his jaw and let her help him with his gloves. This was after all, the only time they could be around one another. It’d become obvious that his affections were more than she first thought. The way he’d cared for her, the trouble he went through to get her back to camp, the way he kissed her hands, and stroked her hair.

Painful. All of it.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Can I get a wipe over here?”

Alice came up behind him to dab sweat from his brow and when Irene looked up at him she could see a faint bruise on his cheek and wondered if Shirley had been the cause for it. If so, this wasn’t just dangerous for her, but for him as well. How far would Shirley go to get him back? Or get revenge?

“How long have we been here?” he asked, pulling Irene out of her thoughts.

Irene glanced at the clock. “Fourteen hours.”

“How’re you holding up?”

“I died at the ten-hour mark. You’ve been working with a zombie,” Irene said, keeping her voice low so to not catch Margaret’s attention. Or Shirley’s.

“Still livelier than Frank Burns.”

Shirley walked past their table with a tray of orange juice toward Winchester’s table. She served them all, then went to Colonel Potter’s table and headed toward BJ’s but Margaret stopped her.

“Lieutenant Grey,” she bellowed.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Twice I’ve seen you take juice to every other table in this operating room but Pierces’. Do you have a problem Lieutenant?”

Shirley tensed and glared at Margaret who was still waiting for a reply. “No ma’am. Must have slipped my mind.”

“Well get it together. We’re all tired.”

“Last round,” Klinger called, bringing another patient in for BJ as the last boy was taken out. Shirley walked around the corpsmen to squeeze between Hawkeye and Irene, pulling his mask down so she could help him drink his juice.

He only muttered a thank you and she didn’t speak to him at all. Irene held her breath as Shirley turned but before she could tell her that she didn’t want any juice, the entire glass was poured down her front.

Irene leapt back and Shirley apologized profusely but Irene didn’t miss the look in her eyes. Margaret was yelling at Shirley from across the room, yet the words blurred into the background for Irene. Shirley sauntered away as Alice rushed over with a new smock to replace the one now stained orange, slipping new gloves on Irene’s hands before Hawkeye could ask for anything.

“You still with me, Foster?” Hawk asked, keeping quiet.

“Oh, yes doctor. I’m sorry.” Odd, her last name sounded so foreign on his lips. She didn’t like it.

“No… I’m sorry.”

Irene simply didn’t understand why Shirley was still being hostile. She’d done as asked and told Hawkeye they couldn’t be friends. What else could Shirley want?

Unless…

What if she knew it was Hawk who had come to the rescue after Shirley and her friends stole her robe and towel? Dammit. She’d been so careful to not return the robe without being seen. Maybe she wasn’t as successful as she thought. Then again, this was the first time in two days she’d been within fifty feet of him. Something must have happened.

“What are your plans after we’re finished?” Hawkeye asked.

“Pierce do not solicit my nurses on duty,” Margaret ordered.

“Alright, I’ll wait till we’re off duty.”

Margaret bristled but Potter requested suction, so her attention was quickly diverted back to the operating table.

“I plan on going to bed,” Irene said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Alone.” She glanced up at him before he could speak, and he chuckled.

“This one’s done. Bring me another,” Hawk called.

“Sorry sir, fresh out,” Klinger said as a couple corpsmen carried a boy with a bandaged leg to Winchester’s table.

“Do you need help Charles?”

Winchester stood a little taller. “When I need your assistance, I’ll ask for it.”

“Anyone else? Going once. Going twice. Sold to the bottom of a martini glass,” Hawkeye said, pulling off his gloves. He planted his fists in his lower back and stretched.

Irene went to work clearing the area, but Margaret stopped her and told her to let the orderly handle it. Instead she decided to clean up in the changing room. Her feet were killing her and her back was stiff but the images that flashed behind her eyelids whenever she blinked made it difficult to think about sleep. She folded clean linens and put them away, tossed used articles that hadn’t made it into the bins, and cleaned the sinks.

Soon the other nurses and doctors came in to drop their dirty smocks while orderlies set to cleaning the operating room. The doctors made their way out into the compound, muttering and complaining about being tired but for the nurses, the work wasn’t done. Margaret set them to their tasks. Irene and Corra were sent to sterilize, Alice and Helen were ordered to prep emergency trays. The rest of the nurses, Shirley included, were sent to check stock in the supply room and bring in anything needed.

Margaret left to check on the patients in post-op and no sooner had she left, Alice spoke up.

“She did that on purpose.”

“I know. I just don’t understand why.”

“Did she see you take his robe back?” Corra asked.

“I don’t think so, but I’ll admit I was more concerned about Hawkeye seeing me, not Shirley. Guess I was worried about the wrong person.”

“Guess so,” Alice said. “She’s looney, I’m telling you.”

“No kiddin’.” Corra shook her head.

“Now you girls know I’m not one to spread gossip and rumors,” Helen said, “but I think maybe we’re in over our heads. I didn’t want to believe it at first. Shirley’s so nice to the patients. But this? Never in my life have I seen anything like this.”

“What are you going to do, Irene?”

“I’m not sure, Corra. I told Hawkeye we can’t be around each other except at work, and he’s stuck to that. So have I. I don’t know what else I can do differently.”

“Tell. Potter.” Alice slammed some clamps down in a bowl of alcohol, sloshing it out of the basin and onto her pants.

“Alice—”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Irene sighed. “I know. I’ll think about it. Let’s just get this done so we can go to bed.”

Later, clouds glowed blue in the moonlight and lightning lit those on the horizon. Irene’s skin prickled with chill bumps, but it was refreshing compared to the smell of disinfectants. Alice came out beside her and the pair of them watched the clouds roll in for a few minutes.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m beat. You wanna get showers before we go to bed?” she asked as they walked toward their tent.

“After what happened the other night, I’ll pass and wait till morning.”

“Think I might too.”

Corra met them at the tent door with an ear to ear smile.

“What’s going on?” Irene asked, stepping through the door to see Helen standing by her bunk, touching a beautiful kimono. “Where did that come from?”

“Not sure,” Corra said. “It was here when we got back. Oh, Irene, it’s gorgeous.”

That it was. It started black up at the top and faded into a pale pink. Intricate pink and white flowers adorned the lower half and trailed up to the shoulders. It was longer than most of the girls in camp wore them and the sleeves were lined in deep pink. Matching tabi socks and black geta sat on the floor below the kimono. Irene loved the outfit.

“What are you waiting for? Put it on.” Alice picked up the kimono and held it open for Irene who pulled off her jacket and started to put her arm in the sleeve when Corra stopped her.

“You’re not going to put that on over those dirty clothes, are you?”

“Oh, can you just imagine how it feel against your skin?” Helen sighed wistfully.

“Better than fatigues, that’s for sure. C’mon Irene, get that stuff off and put this on before I take off with it myself,” Alice giggled.

Irene stripped down and dressed in the kimono. Helen was right, it felt as good as it looked. Alice tied the obi behind her back, then ushered Irene to the full-length mirror in the stand-up locker.

“It’s beautiful but… I don’t understand where it came from,” Irene said.

“I bet I could make a good guess.” Alice leaned against the bunks. “You did tell a certain doctor you were too under dressed to dance with him.”

“Hawkeye? Surely not.”

“I heard that Hawk and Shirley broke up,” Corra said.

“Really? When did that happen?” Alice asked.

“The night Shirley took Irene’s robe from the showers.”

“Remember what I said about rumors.” Helen tutted.

“That part’s not a rumor. I heard from some tent B nurses that Shirley came in from her date with Hawkeye spitting fire and then she took Irene’s stuff and called over those soldiers. They didn’t seem to know what exactly happened, but they were pretty sure the pair broke it off,” Corra insisted. “But break up or not, I don’t think I’d keep it. That Shirley is nutty.”

“Yeah. As much as I love this kimono, I don’t think I can keep it.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Alice called, but Irene was already out of the tent and trotting across the compound, careful to keep the fabric from dragging.

This had gone too far. Hawkeye had gone too far. She reached his door and took a deep breath, steadying her nerves before knocking. Inside she could hear music playing but Hawk was the only person to answer, calling her to come in.

One step inside and he leapt out of his cot and put his martini glass on the heater. He was wearing his black and gold kimono and a smile the size of Texas. She didn’t get a second to speak before he put an arm around her waist and pulled her close, sweeping the hair back from her neck with the other hand.

“You look fantastic,” he grinned, eyes searching her face.

“Captain—”

“Hawkeye.”

Irene sighed. “Hawkeye. Don’t get me wrong, the kimono is gorgeous, but I really can’t accept it.”

“But you’re wearing it.”

“I… I am I just… this isn’t appropriate. We’re not supposed to be alone together.”

He lifted her hand to his face. “Somehow that makes it more exciting.”

“There are things you don’t know.” Why couldn’t she pull her hand away? Why was she just watching his lips softly kiss her fingertips without stopping him?

“I’m not spoken for anymore,” he insisted.

“That’s only part of it.”

“Then tell me what it is.”

“I don’t think I can. It’s just too complicated.”

“Is there someone else?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Do you not like me?”

“Hawk… please.” Her voice broke and she struggled against the burning in her throat.

“So, this is it?” The smile was gone, replaced by a sadness she hadn’t expected. “The end before it’s even started?”

“I’m afraid so. I’ll bring the kimono back.”

He shook his head. “No. I want you to keep it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. But if this is it, dance with me one time?”

Irene inhaled deeply, exhaling past the stabbing pain in her chest. All she could do was nod. He changed the record to _I’ll Never Smile Again_ by Frank Sinatra and poured her a drink.

“I wish I could think of something to toast to,” he said, holding his glass toward hers.

“To a dance,” she said.

“The first and last.” He downed the gin, but Irene only took a mouthful, resisting the urge to grimace while relishing the burn and its promise to wash away her pain.

Glasses set aside she allowed him to pull her close and she rested her head on his chest. His heart was beating fast, but he kept their pace slow; the limited floor space in the tent restricting them to a gentle swaying motion but she didn’t care. He was warm his voice soothing as he hummed along with the song, singing a few parts here and there when he knew them.

But the song was over before she was ready and when the record stopped, she just kept moving, closing her eyes and pressing a little closer to him. He leaned his cheek against her head and the pair of them danced in silence.


	15. Shredded Silk

**15**

**Shredded Silk**

“Come in,” Father Mulcahy called from inside his tent.

Irene opened to door to see the priest sitting at his desk, writing in a small notebook. She’d not met him before, but he had an air of kindness to him. He smiled and gestured for her to sit in a fold-out chair beside him and she thanked him as she took a seat.

“I’m sorry it’s so late Father.”

“It’s quite alright, my child. Oh, what a lovely kimono.”

“Thank you. I’m Irene, by the way. Irene Foster.”

“Francis Mulcahy. I’m sorry I haven’t had time to make proper introductions,” he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. “Things get so busy around here sometimes, it’s hard to keep up. Other times it’s so boring you feel like you’ll lose your mind.”

Irene forced a smile. “You’re not all to blame, Father. I haven’t been to service since I arrived. I hope that doesn’t mean I can’t speak with you about something… personal.”

“No, no, of course not. You can speak with me anytime. What’s troubling you?”

“I wish I knew where to start. I guess it begins with Hawk… I mean, Captain Pierce. Since I got here, he’s been…”

“Himself,” Mulcahy laughed.

“Right. I’ve had men come on too strong before, but they usually back down when I say I’m not interested. Pierce, however, hasn’t been deterred at all.”

“And you don’t appreciate his forward behavior?”

“You’ll probably think I’m out of my mind, but he’s grown on me. More than I like to admit. I really care about him, despite knowing he’s no good for me.”

“I feel like something else is troubling you.”

Irene gave a tight-lipped smile and sighed. “Promise this stays between us?”

“Of course.”

“I’ve been having problems with Shirley.”

“Nurse Grey?”

“That’s the one. She hates that the Captain is giving me so much attention, even though I’ve tried to keep my distance.”

“Have you discussed this with Hawkeye?”

“Sort of. I just haven’t told him the reason. See, Shirley’s reaction has been aggressive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’ve been some petty things. Spilling juice on me in OR, dumping my tray in the mess hall when I walk away to get coffee, and moving things around before I check supply, so it takes me twice at long. But now it’s escalating. Just the other night she stole my robe and towel while I was in the shower. Then she told those soldiers that were passing through and they trapped me in there.”

“Oh my…”

“Pierce chased the soldier’s off, but still. I’m not sure why she did it. I also think she might have been the one to give me food poisoning. And I saw a bruise on his cheek… I think it was her. There’s a rumor they’re not together anymore and I’m afraid of what she’ll do to get him back. Or that she’ll try to get revenge.”

Father Mulcahy’s brow was deeply furrowed. “Irene, I think you should tell Colonel Potter about this. If you’re right, Nurse Grey is dangerous.”

“I don’t want to start trouble. I just thought it would be nice for someone to know and also…” Irene rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to ask for a transfer.”

“I don’t want to talk you out of it if you feel threatened, and I do believe you feel that way, but I think you should talk to Colonel Potter. Even if you’re gone, that doesn’t mean she won’t still act this way.”

“You’re not going to tell Potter, are you?”

“No, no, nothing like that. But I do think you should. Please consider doing so before requesting a transfer.”

Irene nodded and fiddled with her sleeve, drawing he thumb across one of the embroidered flowers. “I’ll think about it. If I decide to ask for that transfer anyway, could you give this to Pierce for me?” She handed over a letter, sealed in an envelope with his name scrawled neatly across the front. “When I was a kid my mother made me write letters if I was having a hard time expressing myself. I usually destroy them when I’m finished but… this one is different.”

“Of course. I’ll keep it safe. I hope that things work out and you can give this to him yourself.”

“Thank you, Father. Well, I’ve stayed late enough. I really do appreciate it.”

“Not at all. Sleep well. I’ll see you around tomorrow.”

Outside the camp was quiet and dark except for the Swamp where the lights were out but that same old song they’d danced to before.

_I’ll never smile again_

_Until I smile at you_

_I’ll never laugh again_

_What good would it do_

She passed by quietly, resisting the urge to peek through the door but Hawkeye must have seen her because he started singing the next few lines.

_For tears would fill my eyes_

_My heart would realize_

_That our romance is true_

_I’ll never love again_

_I’m so in love with you_

* * *

Daylight didn’t drive that song out of her head, nor did it take the pain away from the night before. Irene woke feeling heavy. It was midmorning and Helen and Corra were gone to post-op duty. Alice hummed while she hung up her laundry to dry.

“Morning,” she said when she noticed Irene stir in her bunk. “Late night?”

“Something like that.”

“Were you with Hawkeye the whole time?”

“Not exactly. I stopped by Father Mulcahy’s tent for a few minutes.”

“Is that what you came back for?”

“I came back for the letter.”

“I’m lost.”

“Remember when you said I should write a letter to Hawkeye to get my feelings out? I gave it to Father Mulcahy to give to Hawkeye after I get transferred out.”

“What? No, you can’t do that!” Alice whipped around to face Irene. “If you leave, Shirley wins.”

“What difference does it make? The only way she’s going to be happy is if she has Hawkeye to herself and if the bruise on his cheek is any indicator of how that relationship is going, I’d bet he won’t take her back. He’s only going to keep being persistent and she’s going to make my life miserable while I’m here. This isn’t just dangerous for me, but for him too. I mean, what’s next? What’s her limit? If I go, things will calm down again.”

“Until someone else comes along. Hawk is a flirt. He’s in trouble whether you’re here or not. If you go to Potter about anything, don’t let it be about a transfer. Tell him what’s going on.”

Irene slid off the bunk and started gathering her things for a shower. “Even if I stay and Shirley is gone, Hawk isn’t the man for me. Like you said, he’s a notorious flirt and I want someone who’s going to be all about me. And there’s the war. I mean, what happens after this is over? I’m regular army and he’s a civilian. He’ll go back to his practice and I’ll still be stationed on a base somewhere. Who knows how far apart we’d be? And, isn’t he from Maine or something? See, there’s another thing. I’m from California. My family is there and… and…”

“And it sounds like you’re trying to talk yourself out of caring about him.”

“I’ll get there. Eventually.”

“If you say so. Well, I was going to go to breakfast, but do you want me to come with you to the showers first?”

“No, you go ahead. I think it’ll be fine.”

“Alright. Meet me in the mess hall when you’re done?”

“Maybe. If not, I’ll see you in post-op.”

Alice left and Irene followed, holding her robe tight and bracing her shower basket against her hip. There wasn’t anyone outside and no sound of running water from within so she helped herself to the stall farthest from the door. She hung her robe and towel from a loose nail in the back in case someone decided to take them again.

The water was hot enough to steam and her shoulders relaxed instantly under the heat. She closed her eyes and started lathering up her hair when she heard the door close. Just her luck, it was Shirley. Her shoulders tensed but she tried to pretend she didn’t notice the other woman.

“Morning, Foster,” Shirley said coolly.

“Morning.”

“I saw your new kimono last night. It’s beautiful.”

Irene glanced at Shirley who was soaping up her arms. “Thanks.”

Shirley turned around and her bar of soap dropped to Irene’s stall. “Oh, would you look at that. Could you be a dear and get that for me?”

“Of course.” Irene hesitated, afraid to take her eyes off Shirley who was glaring at her as she stooped to pick up the soap. As she held it out, Shirley grabbed her wrist and twisted her arm backward over the wooden stall divider. Irene cried out in pain as her elbow and shoulder were pushed to their limits. She stood on her tiptoes and clutched at the arm to try to alleviate the pressure. One good twist and Shirley might dislocate the shoulder. Tears flooded her eyes and Shirley pushed the arm harder.

“I tried to warn you. I tried to be nice,” Shirley hissed. “I saw you come out of his tent last night.”

“Why are you acting like this?” Irene sobbed.

“Because I love him and he’s mine.”

Irene was too afraid to say anything about Hawkeye being his own person.

“One more time,” Shirley said. “I catch you with him one more time outside of work, I’ll break your arm and get you sent home.” She released Irene and stormed out of the tent, barely getting into her robe before she hit the door.

Irene crouched in the shower stall and tucked her arm close to her body. Her hands were shaking, and bruises darkened her skin where pecks of blood rose to the surface from splinters that had lodged in her arm. Once she was able to calm herself, she picked the splinters out and finished rinsing her hair.

Her arm looked terrible and it was the last straw. No matter what Alice or Father Mulcahy said, she was asking for a transfer. She didn’t care if she lost to Shirley, or if the next girl would have a hard time, she couldn’t stay.

But then… what about Hawkeye? He’d be left behind to deal with her. Her feelings for her were making the decision more difficult than they needed to be. She tossed her soap into her basket. She had to report Shirley. And then ask for the transfer.

Before she could get back to the tent Radar’s voice came over the intercom saying both surgical teams needed to report for duty as casualties were expected. She’d have to hide the bruises, then speak with Potter immediately after they were finished.

She rushed back to A tent, hoping the other girls were gone so she could hide her bruises. The tent was empty, but she still halted just inside the door. The kimono was in shreds. Ribbons of the pink and black fabric were strewn across the room. Thread from the embroidered flowers tangled in knots on the floor. Irene sat on the edge of Corra’s cot, gathered up what was left of the kimono and cried.


	16. Diverting Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is very short so I went ahead and uploaded two chapters today

** 16 **

** Diverting Blame **

Shirley met Hawkeye at the scrub sink, ready to help him clean up before the OR was standing room only. She scrubbed his arms with a sweet smile, those blue eyes sparkling up at him as if nothing had happened between them at all. It creeped him out. He looked around for Irene, but she wasn’t among the nurses who were aiding the doctors. Something about it didn’t sit right with him and he took his time getting ready. 

Eventually Margaret forced Shirley into the OR, then asked Alice where Irene was. The redhead shrugged and said that Irene had gone to shower shortly before the call went out to report for duty. Margaret looked like she was about to rant but kept her mouth shut and left the room.

“I was expecting her to explode,” Hawkeye said. 

“She would if Irene’s dad wasn’t a General,” Alice giggled. “Oh, shoot. I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“Makes no difference to me. Once you’ve seen one General, you’ve seen ‘em all.”

“Just don’t say anything.”

“Don’t say anything about what?”

Alice tied on his mask. “I wonder where she is?”

“Thought you said she was in the shower?”

“She was, but I would have thought she’d be back by now.”

Margaret called for Alice and Hawkeye was left alone in the scrub room. He couldn’t wait much longer and decided to go in without Irene. The corpsmen brought in a young boy and Irene slipped in out of nowhere. She didn’t look at him, but her eyes were red and puffy. 

“You alright?” he whispered. She nodded but flinched when Shirley stood across from them at the operating table. 

Hawkeye tried to work on the kid, but Shirley kept reaching across to Irene’s table to grab objects he asked for and he was beginning to lose his patience. Margaret stepped in to redirect Shirley before Hawk could say anything and he’d never been so happy to have her chew out a nurse. Shirley looked to him for a rebuttal, but he said nothing, and her expression grew angry. 

Irene seemed to relax a little after that and although she didn’t speak to him or joke with him like she normally did, she was still responsive when he requested equipment and stood a little closer than she had before.

A few hours passed as smoothly as they could, and he was noticing things he hadn’t before. The way Shirley elbowed Irene when she came to wipe his forehead, passed Irene up for juice, and stepped on Irene’s toes whenever she could. Hawk waited for Irene to reply but she never said a word, only kept her head down and he could swear at one point she almost cried. 

Their last patient was brought in and Alice helped Irene into new gloves when Hawkeye noticed a hint of a bruise around her wrist. He spent the rest of the time silent, thinking about how to ask her about it. The proper words still hadn’t come to him when they were in the scrub room once more and Shirley was helping him out of his smock and mask. 

“Buy you a cup of coffee?” Shirley asked him, smiling up at him.

“No, I think I’m going back to the Swamp to write to my dad.”

“Oh… okay.”

Irene left quickly but not before Hawkeye got a glimpse of her arm, bruised in patches halfway up to her elbow. He made a move to the door, but Shirley stepped in front of him.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?” she asked innocently.

“Irene’s arm. It looked like she got it caught in a bear trap.” He realized he was raising his voice and exhaled out his nose, bracing his fists on his sides.

“I don’t think I should say…”

“What happened?”

Shirley pulled him aside and spoke quietly. “She doesn’t want anyone to know, but there’s this guy.”

“What guy?”

“A soldier she met over at Rosie’s. A Sergeant. Huge guy. Shoulders wide as a truck.”

“She’s involved with him?”

“Sort of. He seems to think they’re an item and gets very upset when she tries to set him straight.”

“Well, who is he? What’s his name? I’ve never put someone on report before, but I’d make an exception for anyone who’d do that to a nurse.”

“You need to calm down, darling. You’re causing a scene. Look, I heard she was going to Potter about it so there’s no point in getting involved. You’ll only make it worse if you go to bat for her. Best you keep your distance until this whole thing is settled.”

Margaret stormed in and pushed Hawkeye aside to stare Shirley in the eye. “Lt. Grey, I’m moving you to a different surgical team. It’s become obvious that working with Captain Pierce is a major distraction.”

“But Major—”

“Enough, Grey. Get in there and get that OR sparkling. One more word and I’ll put you on report.”

Shirley set and jaw and stormed off with barely a “Yes ma’am” under her breath. 

“Nothing from the peanut gallery?” Margaret snapped, turning on him.

“Who, me? I won’t say anything. I’m allergic to peanuts.”

“Nonsense.”

Potter came in, Winchester in tow, and tossed his gloves in the bin. “Radar says we got word from battalion aid saying they need a doctor and a nurse ASAP. It’s your turn to go, Pierce. What nurse do you want to take with you?”

“Foster,” Hawk replied with no hesitation.

“But she’s so new,” Margaret said.

“She’ll have to learn eventually,” Potter said. “Let Lt. Foster know to get her things together. You two need to be out of here in twenty minutes.”

“I’ll tell her.” Margaret left and Hawkeye went to get his things ready, all the while seething about the unknown solider and how he’d bring it up to Irene. Afterall, it was a long drive. 


	17. Breaking Point

**17**

**Breaking Point**

It was midafternoon by the time Hawkeye and Irene left camp. The sun was shining and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, offering nice weather to travel in. A winter chill had set in, however, and the wind as they drove along in the jeep was enough to keep Hawkeye’s skin covered in goosebumps, but not enough to chatter his teeth. They’d be in for a long, cold night.

“You’ve been awful quiet,” Hawkeye said as they were tearing down the dirt road on the way to the evac unit. Irene hadn’t spoken a word since they left, and she kept her arm close to her belly.

“Sorry, I’m nervous about going to the front. Why did you fight Potter about taking your service pistol?”

“I have this thing against guns. My instinct is to heal, not inflict wounds.”

She didn’t reply, only looked away toward the scenery once more.

Hawkeye pulled over under the shade of a tree and threw the jeep in park.

“What are you doing?”

“Irene, what happened?”

“With what?”

“With your arm. Don’t say it's nothing, I saw it earlier. Let me see.” He held out his hand, but she just stared at it.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Just let me see.”

Irene paused a moment, then stretched her arm out for him. Suddenly he was afraid to look. He pulled her sleeve up and she winced. The arm looked worse than he thought. She had bandaged most of it so he had to pull part of it up to see what was underneath. The bruises were bad enough, but there were tears in the skin too.

“Who did this?”

“It’s not important. Let’s keep moving.”

“Irene, I can’t walk away from this. I can’t let this go. Tell me the name of the guy and I’ll put him on report myself.”

She looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“Shirley told me what happened.”

“And… what did she say?”

“That some Sergeant got a little rough with you. Is that why you didn’t want to be seen with me?”

“That’s not… look, I’ll tell you what happened later, okay? We should really get out of here.”

Hawk couldn’t let her hand go. He gently rolled her arm over, exposing the soft underside where the bruising was the worst. “I’m sorry this happened.”

An explosion nearby shattered the moment and Hawkeye had no choice but to peel out before the shelling got any closer. They rode a little farther until the road narrowed and he was forced to slow down.

“Why don’t you get some sleep,” he said. “We’ll likely be up all night.”

“What about you?”

“I’m used to staying up for days at a time. Did you think these lovely purple bags under my eyes came with me from the factory?”

“You do not have purple bags under your eyes.”

Ah, she laughed. That lightened his mood a little.

“C’mon. Lay down. Rest. I’ve been told I have very comfortable thighs despite being underweight.” He patted his lap and she raised a brow at him. “I won’t tell.”

“It’s not your telling I’m worried about,” she replied flatly.

“No funny business. Scouts honor.”

“Promise?”

“Would I lie to you?”

“Promise.”

“Ok, alright, I promise.”

“You wake me up before we get there. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a phony left-handed salute.

Irene lay down across the front seat and rested her head in Hawkeye’s lap. Oh how he wanted to break that promise. Not for lecherous reasons, but just to touch her again. To stroke her hair, or squeeze her shoulder… okay, maybe slightly lecherous reasons. He kept both hands on the wheel and drove on as night fell.

The last rays of light set the mountains on fire against a darkening sky and he could see the lights of battalion aid ahead through the trees. He gently shook Irene awake.

“Almost there.”

“Hmm… thanks.”

“Anytime. No really, any time you wanna take a nap on my leg you’re welcome to it.”

“Don’t get fresh, doctor.” Her tone was warning but the slight curve of her lips gave her away.

“I should probably warn you that these places are not like the 4077th. They’re way worse. I’ve never been to this one, but I expect it won’t be much different than the rest. Don’t be surprised if we don’t have a roof or we have to scrub up in a bowl of alcohol.”

She nodded and set her eyes on the road as they came around the last bend. The woods continued to the right, arching wide around the hospital which was just a run-down shack covered in netting. On the other side of the road was a huge field, covered in tall grass except for a path toward what appeared to be a helicopter pad.

Lanterns hung about as the only source of light and mortars hit the far end of the field, exploding in a rain of dirt and debris. The hospital itself wasn’t being fired on yet, but it was only a matter of time. They pulled to a stop in front of the hut and Hawkeye could see a metal building set a little farther back, also covered in netting and surrounded by crates. A busted-up jeep sat a few yards in front of it but not close enough to block the door.

Hawkeye told Irene to put on her helmet as he donned his and an older gentleman trotted out to greet them, his clothes covered in blood and dirt.

“Captain Pierce?” he asked, shaking Hawkeye’s hand. “I’m Lt. Colonel Byers.”

“Nice to meet you, Byers. Call me Hawkeye. This is Lt. Foster.”

“Welcome to our little corner of Hell,” the man said with a forced grin as he took Irene’s hand. “We’ve been given the order to high tail it out of here as soon as this last batch of men arrives. Got a chopper and an ambulance bus headed this way.”

“Alright, we’ll scrub up. Hey, what’s that building back there?” Hawk asked, pointing toward the metal structure.

“Ah, it’s a supply hut. Was left behind by some other MASH unit that bugged out when the line pushed this way. We’ve been using supplies out of it but you’re welcome to whatever’s left when you go. As thanks for helping us out.”

“We’ll look later. Let’s get ready. I think I hear the chopper now.”

Irene helped him clean up in the area that served as a scrub space. She looked a little pale but seemed to be holding up just fine.

“It’ll be okay,” he said and she glanced up at him as she helped him out of his jacket.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Didn’t you know chicken was my middle name?”

A shell hit closer to the hut and dust shook loose from the rafters.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Whatever you say, dear,” he said as he led the way toward the first patient. He was curious to see how she’d handle it. The casualties were much more gruesome here; the wounds still fresh and some unbandaged. A knife twisted in his gut when she paled at the sight of the first boy, barely over eighteen.

Shrapnel had destroyed his left arm, leaving exposed bone showing through what remained of shredded muscle. The whole arm would have to be amputated and the left side of his chest was heavily damaged by shell fragments.

These were the cases they worked on long into the night. He questioned if he’d chosen correctly when he picked Irene to accompany him or if his longing to be near her again had gotten the best of him. Shelling rocked the hut and several times he had to throw himself over the patient to keep dirt from getting into the wounds. Irene’s voice trembled but she did a fantastic job of staying focused. One man was dead before he could hit the table, but the others made it onto the hospital bus as Hawk finished with the last soldier.

The sound of a convoy passing rumbled the ground under his feet but he didn’t have to wait for an explanation. Irene helped him wash the blood from his hands.

“Captain,” Byers huffed as he rushed in from outside. “The Chinese broke the line and they’re headed this way. I had a couple of my men load up your jeep with supplies and we’re about to head out. I sent the bus ahead but there’s a litter on the chopper out in the field. I suggest your nurse get on that bird and get outta here before the Chinese are knocking on the door.”

He looked to Irene who met him with a pleading expression and a slow shaking of her head.

“I can’t,” she said.

“You have to get on that chopper,” Hawk insisted. Byers trotted back outside, leaving the two of them alone. Hawkeye gripped her upper arms and she rested her fists on his chest. “The road isn’t safe now.”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine, but I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because I don’t want to give up control. The helicopter is safer.”

“C’mon, ma’am,” a corpsman said as he and one other came in for the last wounded man. “This is the last guy. You’ve gotta go now.”

Irene looked to Hawkeye in pure desperation. He wrapped his jacket around her, checked her helmet, and kissed her cheek before spinning her around and directing her to the door. The corpsmen rushed out the door with the litter between them and Irene followed, her hand lingered in Hawkeye’s and he clutched at her fingers as they slipped away.

She put her arms in the sleeves of his coat and ran through the grass toward the helipad. The first light of day painted the scene with pale pink in a way that made him feel uneasy. It almost didn’t look natural. Mortar rounds exploded close to the hut and he dropped to one knee to cover his helmet with his arm. He could see the corpsman help her get into the cockpit and run back a few yards to allow the chopper room to take off.

At first the helicopter struggled to get off the ground with the weight of two wounded, the pilot, Irene, and a few boxes of supplies, but finally it began to lift. But then it happened.

She jumped.

* * *

Irene didn’t know what convinced her to jump from the helicopter. One minute she was looking across the field at Hawkeye, braced in the doorway of the hut and the next she was laying on the ground, staring up at the sky and the chopper lifting above her.

A shell hit twenty yards behind her and set her ears to ringing. One of the corpsmen helped her to her feet, the other already halfway across the field. The one that remained yelled something about her being crazy before sprinting toward the hut.

The soldier ran ahead of her, putting distance between them in just a few strides. His longer legs carried him forward with ease, but Irene struggled to run through the tall grass. Thorns pulled at her clothes and it felt as if tiny hands grabbed at her, impeding her progress, but the path that had been cut was lost to her. She could see Hawkeye in the door of the makeshift hospital. He was yelling and pushing against two men that held him back from running to her.

An explosion from behind threw her to her belly. Pain shot through her hands and knees and a stinging sensation burned into the back of her left thigh as pieces of the helicopter rained down on her. She looked up to see a chopper blade fling past her and slice the still running corpsman in half. His legs dropped where they were, but his torso rolled across the ground, scattering his entrails across the grass.

Fear brought her scrambling to her feet and she tried not to look at the mangled body as she ran past it. Tears flooded her eyes and she ran in a haze toward the hut, slamming into Hawkeye with enough force to knock him back into a stack of crates and out of the hands of the men who restrained him.

His helmet rolled onto the floor and his arms tightened around her like a vice. She sobbed uncontrollably, and he helped her to stand again.

“We have to get out of here,” Byers said, eyes wide as she stared at Irene. “Damn if she’d have stayed on the chopper….”

“Go ahead, Byers,” Hawkeye said. “We’re going to get our jeep and get the hell out of here.”

Byers nodded and ran out the door. Irene took one step and her left leg nearly gave out on her. She cried out and Hawkeye peered behind her to see blood soaking her pants leg.

“You have some shrapnel in that leg,” he said. “I have to bandage it.” Another round hit the other side of the hut and Hawk shielded her from the debris. “I can’t do it here. Let’s go.”

Hawk helped her hobble out toward the supply hut. No sooner had they gotten inside that an explosion knocked them to the floor. The metal in Irene’s leg sent shockwaves through her and she nearly vomited. Hawkeye leapt to his feet and pushed on the door to find he could only open it a couple of inches.

“Dammit!” He slammed himself against the door a few times to no avail. “That old jeep got flung into the door.”

Footsteps on the other side brought the voice of Byers.

“Captain? Are you two alright?”

“Yeah, we’re just trapped.”

“I already sent my guys on with the bus. I’m sorry, but I can’t flip a jeep by myself. You guys just hang tight. I’ll send for help.”

“Wait, don’t go!” Hawkeye pleaded, but Byers was already gone. He pounded his fist on the door before leaning against it, forehead to the metal door in defeat.

“Hawk?”

He came to her side and caressed her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“My leg,” she said, and he set to work. Irene rolled onto her belly and he tore open the hole in her pants to expose the wound.

“There should be some supplies left,” he said as he searched the boxes that were stacked on the shelves. He returned a few minutes later with a makeshift it. “I’m sorry, they don’t have anything for pain.”

“Just do what you need to.”

He hesitated. “Forgive me.” He doused the area with alcohol. She winced, drew her arms toward her face and cried. She bit the sleeve of his jacket, ignoring the grit of dirt for the welcome reprieve of a way to focus the pain. There was no need to watch him to know what was happening. He cleaned the wound with fresh cotton and threw the bloodied pieces on the floor.

“It didn’t do any damage to the artery,” he said. “Just… bear with me.”

“Keep talking.”

“About what?” he dug into her leg and she gasped.

“Anything, just anything. Tell me about home.”

“Home? Uh, home for me is Crabapple Cove. Maine. Just a little town where the lobsters brought in fresh by the boatload and the people are the best you’ll find anywhere. When I get home the first thing I’m going to do is eat my weight in seafood and pass out for a month.”

“Sounds great.”

“Sorry, just hold tight. It’s deeper than I thought. I’m having a hard time finding it.”

“Tell me more.”

“Yeah…. Yeah the leaves in autumn are something else. And once a year we have this big festival when the sap comes in. There’s something special about fresh maple syrup on a stack of hotcakes. Or French toast.”

“Sounds like a lot of eating where you’re from.” Irene flinched and cried out as he dug deeper.

“Hang in there. Why don’t you tell me where you’re from?”

“California,” she said through gritted teeth. “Fort Ord.”

“Oh yeah, your dad is a General, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“Alice mentioned something about it. How are you holding up?”

“When I can catch my breath, I’ll tell you,” she tried to laugh but ended up sobbing instead.

“I’m sorry. Hey, I found it. Hold on. Deep breath.”

Irene held her breath as long as she could while he pulled the metal from her leg, but the room was spinning and she thought she might pass out.

“So,” he began. “You’re career military?”

“Born and raised,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I think this war’s changed my mind.”

“Ah, you mean police action.” He tossed the metal fragment in a bowl and began stitching her up.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the pain, but the tears wouldn’t stop and the visions… the darkness behind her eyelids kept repeating the scene of the corpsman who was killed by the chopper blade.

“You still with me?”

“Barely,” she muttered through the tears.

“Why did you jump?”

“I couldn’t leave you here.”

“If you would have stayed on that helicopter—" his voice broke.

“I know.”

He bandaged her leg and helped her to sit up against some shelves. She leaned into his hand when he pushed her hair behind her ear. Her hands wrapped around his and she broke down crying.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting to pull her closer. “If I’d known I never would have told you to get on that chopper.”

“It’s not your fault, Hawkeye. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I almost lost you.” He traced the lines of her palm with his fingertip before moving to her bruised wrist. “I should clean that.”

Hawkeye pulled the box of supplies to his side and unwrapped her bandages. He turned her wrist over and shook his head. “I wish you’d tell me who did this.”

“You said Shirley told you what happened?”

“Yeah. Told me you have trouble with a soldier who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“That’s not what happened but I don’t think you’d believe me if I said.”

“Never know till you try.”

A shell hit close to the bunker and the small window by the door shattered inward, scatting glass all over the floor. Hawkeye braced his arms on either side of her head and when the room stopped shaking his face was mere inches from hers. She stared into his eyes and considered kissing him when he sat back and focused on the bandages.

“What happened?” he asked.

Wait, was she disappointed he didn’t kiss her? She cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter. When we get back, if we get back, I’m going to ask for a transfer.”

“What? You can’t ask for a transfer. Just tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can fix it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Please.” He locked eyed with her and she thought about her beautiful kimono, shredded on the tent floor and decided it was time.

“It wasn’t a soldier. It was Shirley. She caught me in the shower and twisted my arm over the stall divider. Since I got here she’s been making my life miserable because you’ve been giving me attention. That’s why she’s doing all that stuff in the OR. Corra caught her stabbing a bag of laundry and Shirley’s done other things. She’s threatened me on a couple of occasions, this being one of them.” She motioned to her injured arm. “And I think she might have given me food poisoning and she… she destroyed the kimono.”

Hawkeye sat back, shocked. “Shirley Grey? She seems like such a nice girl.”

“I said you wouldn’t believe me.”

“No, no…. it makes sense. Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Irene nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it’d do any good. But when you wouldn’t give up it made things complicated.”

“If I’d known I’d have handled it. Who else knew?”

“Most of the other nurses.”

“Didn’t they tell you to go to Potter?”

“They did. I was going to go to him, but we were sent out here before I could.”

“I wish you’d have told me. If I knew I never would have pushed so hard.”

“I should have said something. When we get back, I’ll handle it.”

Cold wind blew in from the open window and Hawkeye stood to check outside. He cursed under his breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s snowing.”

“Won’t that slow down the Chinese?”

“Yeah, it will but that means it’ll slow down our rescue too. Who knows how long it’ll be before anyone comes to get us and you lost a lot of blood.”

“I don’t feel that cold yet.”

“The adrenaline is responsible for that. We need to make sure your temp stays up.” He pulled a mattress from a top shelf and unrolled it, leaning it into a corner.

“I don’t think so, Captain,” Irene said flatly.

“Nothing like that,” he said, gathering blankets before coming back to where she was sitting. “Think you can walk?”

“Maybe.” She grabbed his hand and stood, her head swimming at first. He guided her over to the mattress where he sat, back to the corner. Irene lowered herself to the floor and he pulled her to sit between his knees. Hawkeye wrapped the blankets around them both and Irene relaxed against his chest.

“I think I really like this,” he smiled. “We should have been doing this sooner.”

“You’re trouble, you know?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I don’t get it.”

“What?”

“Why you’ve been so persistent. You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s not true.” He put his arms around her. “I know you’re Army raised, an amazing nurse, a fantastic dancer, and you’re the cutest thing ever in my robe. Oh, and did I mention you kiss like an angel?”

Irene raised a brow at him. “I’m an inexperienced nurse, a terrible dancer, and that last thing never happened.”

“It didn’t? I must have been dreaming. How about you show me the real thing and I’ll tell you how it compares?”

“Honestly, Hawkeye.”

“Well, why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

“What do you want to know.”

“Everything. Who was your best friend when you were a kid? What’s your favorite color? Can you play any instruments? Have any hobbies? Think you could love me?”

“That escalated quickly.”

Hawkeye shrugged. Irene laughed.

“My best friend was Suzie Marie Lane. Our fathers worked on the same base. We used to make tents in her back yard and play Army. I remember we’d play all afternoon but as soon as the sun went down and the night sounds started, we’d run in the house to hide. I don’t think we stayed a single night out in that tent.”

“I had a friend like that. Scooter. We used to go down to the river and play pirates. One summer the current was stronger than normal and he got swept downstream.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Oh, no, he was fine. They found him a half-mile downstream sitting on a tree playing Huck Finn. If Scooter was anything he was a great swimmer.”

“That’s good. And for the other things; my favorite color is pink, I can only play the piano if I’ve had a few drinks, and my hobbies include reading, horseback riding, and cooking.”

“And you forgot to answer that last question.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. He was so close his hair tickled her cheek and she found herself lost in her eyes like the first time she saw him. Love him? Could she? Did she already? There was no way in hell she’d answer that question. This time she reached up to push his hair out of his face. He looked taken aback.

Her hand traced down to his dog tags that she pulled over her shoulder to see them closer. His breath was warm on her cheek where he leaned closer. A shiver ran through her and she looked into his eyes before turning back to his dog tags, face flushed.

“Benjamin Franklin Pierce.” She ran her thumb across his name. “All this talk about love and I didn’t even know your actual name.”

“I don’t count that. Nobody calls me by my name anyway.”

“You’re quite a character you know? I’ve heard some of the things you’ve done. The people back in camp… they sort of revere you in a way. Potter talks about you like you’re an unbreakable colt who refuses to be put through his paces. They say despite the lechery, pranks, and alcoholism you’re something special.”

“No. No, I don’t think so. I just do what I can to keep from going crazy here. The whole world’s been turned upside down. I do what I think is right.”

“I see. I hope I can be like that.”

“You already have been. When you broke regulation without batting an eye to steal supplies for that Korean family.”

“We did that together.”

“You started it.”

Irene tilted her head and went back to reading his tags over and over. “When I was a kid I thought my father’s dog tags were so amazing. He’d let me play with them and… I don’t know, it just felt so complete. Like the games I played with Suzie were real. But now…”

“Now what?” he asked when the silence between them grew stagnant.

“They’re so morbid. Everything you’re worth to the army is engraved on these two plates of metal.”

Hawkeye put his hand around hers, closing her fist around the dog tags. “You know, when you came here, I was blinded by the thought of something new. Beej said that if you would have been attainable from the start I’d never stayed interested but spending time with you, I don’t think that would have been the case. I feel something for you. Really.”

“Hawk…” she turned to him, staring at his lips.

“Yes?”

“You should sleep,” she said. “You look terrible.”

Hawk nuzzled close to her. “I’m too tired to argue with that. But you know what?”

“Hm?”

“Despite being stuck in a supply hut with glass all over the floor, snow coming in the window, and the Chinese banging on the front door, I think I’m going to sleep better than I have in a long time.”

Irene sighed and closed her eyes, melting into his warmth. “Me too.”


	18. Get Behind Me

**18**

**Get Behind Me!**

Hawkeye woke to Irene screaming and fighting against him. He tried to get his arms around her but she was caught up in a fever dream. The blankets tangled around them as she struggled until at last he pinned her down, laying on her and cradling her head with one arm while restraining her arms with the other.

“Irene!”

The screams turned into sobbing when she finally opened her eyes. She didn’t fight him anymore, but instead clung to him for dear life. His heart pounded in his ears and he shook almost as violently as she did. It was the corpsman. Most of what she said was incomprehensible, but he caught enough to understand. Seeing him sliced in half had been her breaking point. They all had one and it happened at different times for different people. That was hers.

All he could do was hold her and say comforting things until she calmed down. As her cries abated, the sounds from outside became clearer. The shelling was still going on but a little farther away and the shots farther apart. Wind whistled through the broken window and snow had piled up on the floor below.

Hawk sat up, pulling Irene up with him. He wrapped the blankets around her and noticed her lips were slightly tinged blue. Shivers wracked his body and his teeth began to chatter.

“Are you alright?” he asked, palm to her cheek. Irene nodded and he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “It’s freezing.”

“I’m sorry,” she sniffed. “I still have your coat. Here—”

Hawkeye stopped her when she started stripping off his jacket. “Keep it. What kind of gentleman would I be if I took my date’s coat?” The joke had no levity. It fell flat from his mouth and he wished he wouldn’t have said it. “Just keep it.”

“No one is coming for us,” she said, eyes welling up once more.

“Of course, they are. Colonel Potter won’t just leave us out here. He’ll find a way. Him and Beej… we’ll be out of here in no time. I need you to stay right here. I’m going to look outside.”

He stepped up onto a box to see outside the narrow window. The field was covered in a fresh blanket of snow, covering the body of the corpsman, but parts of the helicopter were still visible. A few sprigs of brown grass poked out but most of it had been weighed down. More snow had fallen than he expected in the few short hours they’d been asleep. He bet it’d be nearly knee-deep in some places and unease settled in his belly. Irene might be right. Getting through the snow would prove difficult. Maybe impossible.

He looked back at Irene who had huddled up on the mattress, blankets pulled close to her chin. And that was the last thing he saw. A shell hit close to the side of the supply hut, blowing a hole in it and knocking Hawkeye to the floor in a rain of dirt and sheet metal. The blast knocked him out for a few seconds and the dust was still falling when his eyes opened but his vision was blurry.

Irene hovered over him, her hands on his face but her voice was lost to the ringing in his ears. He blinked rapidly and the world came back into focus. She withdrew her hand from his head and there was blood.

Something must have hit him on the head. If he had a concussion, they’d be in worse trouble than they already were. He tried to speak to her but couldn’t hear his own words, just a faint murmuring in his head. She covered his mouth with her fingers, head snapping toward the door. What was she doing? It was like she was hearing something… something she didn’t like.

Scrambling, she rushed to his medical bag and pulled out the belt with his service pistol before coming back to him. Her injured leg must have given out on her because she dropped to the floor between his knees, partially blocking his view. He tried to sit up but his head swam and he fell back. Irene aimed the pistol at the door, hands shaking.

There must have been someone out there. The Chinese? His stomach churned and he tried again to sit up. He didn’t want to think of the things the enemy would do to her if they found them and he couldn’t protect her in the state he was in. And here she was, weapon drawn, protecting him. The ringing in his ears began to fade.

“Irene?”

“Shhh…. I hear someone.”

Hawk pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Get behind me.”

“Hawkeye, please, be quiet.”

Footsteps crunching in the snow outside grew closer to the door. His heart nearly stopped when the strangers moved around to the side wall that had been destroyed. Irene nearly fell over his leg when she turned to aim the gun at the hole.

“Don’t shoot.” He grabbed the barrel and tried to pull it away from her but she snatched it away and got close to his face, fear in her eyes.

“You can’t protect us. Somebody has to. I’m not dying here and I’m not letting them get you either.” Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. She turned back to the hole in the wall and he put an arm around her shoulders. “Come any closer and I’ll shoot,” she yelled, and the footsteps stopped.

The silence was unbearable. “Maybe they don’t understand English.”

A stick with a white scrap of cloth popped around the corner and a voice followed.

“We’re here to help,” a man called. “Are you the doctor and nurse from the 4077th? We were sent looking for you.”

“That’s us,” Hawk said as he put his hand over the gun and lowered it. She was still shaking like a leaf and resisted at first, but she allowed him to pull the gun away and set it beside them. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

“You have a head injury.”

“They’re here to help.”

An MP came around the corner, hands up. “We need to get you two out of here. A bad storm’s headed this way and we’re expecting more snow.”

“How’d you manage to get here?” Hawk asked as another MP entered and helped him stand. The first man picked Irene up and walked out with her.

“Jeeps can still make it, but barely. How’s your head, doc?”

“Not great but as long as I don’t go to sleep, I should be fine.” He reached up to touch the small gash on his head. The blood was warm and sticky in his hair and the pain came in throbs with his heartbeat, but he’d been worse.

The MP who was settling Irene in covered her with blankets and proceeded to jump in the jeep Hawk and Irene had ridden in. With some assistance from Irene, Hawkeye was able to dress the wound on his head as they bounced along the snowy road. When they were finished, they wrapped up in the blankets and hunkered down in the back seat. Irene was asleep within a few minutes, exhausted by the whole ordeal, but Hawk had to stay awake. He occupied himself with watching for snipers and twisting a lock of her hair around his finger.

He caught a glimpse of his medical bag shoved between the front seats, the glint of sunlight on his service pistol. She’d drawn the gun without hesitation to protect them when he couldn’t. How far was she willing to go? He looked down at her sleeping face, peaceful against his chest. So sweet and innocent but that look in her eye when she put herself between him and assumed danger. No matter what she said, he wanted to believe she loved him.

But she’d be gone soon. Transferred. He’d lose her forever and he wasn’t the kind to take losing well.


	19. Running for Fear

**19**

**Running For Fear**

The push from the Chinese had put the camp in a state of chaos. They’d gotten halfway through bugging out when American forces pushed back and retook the area. Hawkeye and Irene had been returned to them while they were still setting up the OR to its original condition.

Potter, BJ, and Rader met them at the jeep, the three of them bundled up over their bathrobes. Night had brought a severe drop in temperature and Hawkeye was concerned for Irene. She’d slept through the entire ride, even across potholes hidden in the snow that threatened to turn the jeep on its side. Her hands were freezing and her face red from the cold. He was sure he wasn’t in much better shape, but he couldn’t be bothered by his own condition.

“Glad to see you in one piece,” Potter said as he pulled back the bandage around Hawk’s head. BJ climbed up to check Irene’s vitals.

“What happened?” BJ asked.

“We got caught in the crossfire,” Hawk explained as BJ unwrapped Irene. He explained the ordeal the pair of them had gone through and insisted that BJ clean and dress Irene’s wound, expressing concern about blood loss and infection.

“I’ll take care of her Hawk,” BJ insisted as she lifted Irene from the back seat.

“And I’ll take care of that cut you’ve got on your melon,” Potter said. “Lucky you’ve got such a thick skull, or you’d have been a six-foot-tall popsicle.”

“Hawkeye!”

Shirley’s yell across the compound made Hawk go rigid. He set his jaw and forced a smile when she put her arms around him as he tried to walk to the post-op. It was all he could do to not peel her off him. Potter did it for him.

“Relax Grey,” he said. “Loverboy here’ll be back in business in no time. Get back to your tent.”

“But Colonel, I haven’t slept I’ve been so worried.”

“Then it’s a good time to catch up on the z’s.” He ushered her away and Hawk watched her reaction. There was no disappointment on her pretty face, but anger. She stared daggers at Potter, then at him, before she relented and went back the way she’d come.

He didn’t understand how he hadn’t seen it before. But then… there’d been no reason to. Irene was the first nurse he’d shown an excessive amount of attention to. The others were used to his constant flirting and turned him down regularly but Irene… he’d gone too far.

“You alright, son?” Potter asked as Hawk sat down on a bed in post-op. “Did that hit on the head knock the words right out of your mouth?”

“No. It’s… complicated.”

“We’ve got time.”

“I have a friend who’s having some trouble here.”

Potter raised a brow and continued to unwrap Hawkeye’s head. “Go on.”

“Well, if the things my friend says happen to be true, then we have a big problem on our hands.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Irene wants a transfer.”

“Really? She’s not been here long. What’s got her wanting to run?”

Hawkeye sighed. “I don’t know what to say. I really want her to tell you for herself but…”

“Hawk, in all the time I’ve been your commanding officer I’ve known you to be a loyal friend, a capable surgeon, and a grade A buttinski. You can’t stay out of other people’s business to save your life. I know you wanna spill the beans, so do it already.”

“I think I’ve been paying her too much attention and it’s got… other people behaving in a way I didn’t think they’d be capable of.”

“You mean Lt. Grey?”

“How’d you know?”

Potter hesitated and pressed an alcohol-soaked cloth to Hawk’s head, causing him to wince. “That girl came with a duffel bag full of rumors.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was transferred here on accusations of threatening another nurse over a Major but there wasn’t any proof so there wasn’t a case made of it.”

“It’s hard to believe.”

“She’s a damn good nurse. Compassionate with the men that come through here. That’s why I didn’t believe the rumors but if you’re saying another nurse is having trouble, they must be true.”

“I don’t want Irene to transfer out.”

“Does she have any proof of what happened? Any witnesses?”

“Not that I know of.”

Potter finished bandaging Hawkeye’s head and patted him on the shoulder. “As soon as Irene’s taken care of I’ll go see her. Maybe she’ll come clean herself. After that, I’ll see what I can do. And don’t worry, I won’t let her transfer out if I can help it.”

“Thanks.”

“Get some rest. I’ll let you know when Irene’s up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Not until this whole thing with Shirley is taken care of.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll keep my eye on Nurse Grey.”

* * *

Irene came to in the middle of the night during a heavy snowstorm. Wind rattled the windows and the few lights that were left on overnight flickered. The room was full of young men, all fast asleep. She sat up in bed and the nurse noticed immediately. It was Alice.

She came out with a clipboard in hand.

“How’re you feeling?” she asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “Are you cold? We had to pull heaters from other tents to keep the place warm enough.”

“I’m alright.”

“You gotta tell me everything.”

“Not much to tell, really. We got stuck in a supply hut while waiting to be rescued. Oh, stop it,” Irene giggled quietly, tapping Alice’s hand. “I have a bum leg, remember? Nothing happened.”

“Well, Shirley was fuming earlier. I heard Colonel Potter shooed her away when she went for Hawkeye. She was on cleaning detail after we got these boys patched up and I swear she almost cleaned a hole through the operating table. So what next? Potter wanted to talk to you when you woke up.”

“He does? Why?”

“I guess Hawkeye panicked and told him you wanted to leave.”

“Did he tell him anything else? The reason I want out?”

“No, I don’t think so. He asked me what I knew but I said it was best if you explained. I don’t think Hawk told him anything. But I’m guessing you already told Hawkeye everything.”

“I had to.” Irene held up her injured arm. “Shirley messed up my arm before we left and he noticed. She lied and said a soldier did it to me.”

“Seriously? I thought that was from battalion aid. I’m not surprised she lied. So you told Hawkeye everything? Even about the kimono? I saw the scraps after you left.”

“Yeah, I told him that too.”

“He wanted me to get him as soon as you were awake.”

“It’s alright, wait until morning. I don’t want to disturb anyone.”

“Houlihan said you should be able to go back to our tent later today anyway. Maybe you’d rather see him in there? It’ll be a little more private.”

“You’re terrible,” Irene smiled.

“Get back to sleep.” Alice guided Irene back onto her pillow and tucked her in. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

Irene rolled over and pulled her blanket up to her chin. The last thing she remembered was leaning against Hawkeye to sleep on the way back from battalion aid. There were flashes here and there but she wasn’t sure what was real and what was a dream. One thing she could remember, however, was the comfort she got from his warmth. It conflicted her. She didn’t want to lose that warmth, but there was still the matter of his personality. He was known to skip between women and she had no right to ask him to stop.

* * *

Margaret allowed Irene to walk back to her tent since the snow was too deep for a wheelchair. The storm had long stopped, and jeeps had turned the streets to muddy slush. How they managed to get through, Irene didn’t know. Halfway across the compound and her stomach growled, causing her to divert toward the mess tent where Radar stopped her at the door.

“Oh, Irene,” he smiled through chattering teeth. “Good to see you walking around. You feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. The pain meds are doing their job. Now I just need something on my stomach.”

“They already put the food away, but you can help yourself to the kitchen. Nobody should be in there right now.”

“Thanks Radar. Might be better if I made it myself. At least then I can make sure it’s not surplus from the last war.”

Radar laughed. “Good luck.” He waved and left for the office.

Irene helped herself to the kitchen where she found her idea of avoiding surplus to be impossible. Except for fresh, unpeeled potatoes, everything was canned or bagged. With a heavy sigh she grabbed a potato and began to clean and peel it before she realized she was being watched.

Shirley stood with her back to the door and her eyes burning holes in Irene. Somehow Irene knew the time for talk and idle threats was over. She turned to face Shirley, watching her every move as the blonde slowly walked toward her, sick smile plastered on her crimson lips.

“I tried,” she said, her voice calm but strained. “I tried to be nice.” Without looking she slid a knife from a butcher block and pointed it at Irene. “All I wanted was for you to keep your mitts off him. He was mine. He should be mine!”

By the end she was yelling, and Irene was trying to think of a way out. The windows would need to be broken out and she wasn’t sure she could climb out with her leg or without risking massive injury, but Shirley was blocking the door. Calling for help surely wouldn’t do her any favors either. She picked up the potato behind her, locking eyes with Shirely’s.

“I did what you asked,” Irene said, voice shaking more than she wanted. “I told him we couldn’t be friends. I didn’t choose to go on that mission, I was picked.”

“By Hawkeye!” Shirley screamed and slashed at Irene but she was still halfway across the room and out of range. “Why didn’t he choose me?”

Irene didn’t dare answer. Shirley took a few steps closer and Irene saw her moment. She began pelting potatoes at Shirley, one of which slammed into the side of her face. As she clutched at her cheek Irene tried to make a break for it, running as fast as her wounded leg could carry her around the opposite side of a table that sat in the middle of the room. Anything she could find to throw, she did, but Shirley recovered too quickly.

Pain shot through Irene’s leg as Shirley grabbed her by the hair the moment she hit the door and yanked her back into the kitchen. The table she’d run around caught her in the middle of the back and she cried out. Shirley shoved her onto her back on the scarred wooden surface. Irene grabbed for anything she could as Shirley pressed the knife to her throat.

“I don’t understand,” Irene gasped. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I saw you leave his tent in that kimono that should have been mine. He never bought me anything like that.”

“I didn’t ask him to! I was going to return it.” Irene grabbed Shirley’s wrists and tried to push her away. The blade loomed over her throat and her heart pounded in her ears. She wriggled and fought but Shirley pushed ever harder until Irene knew she had no other option but to scream for help, assuming no one had heard the commotion beforehand.

Apparently, someone had. Shadows fell over them from the windows and she could hear them outside, yelling, running. Help was coming. She only had to hold on.

Hawkeye was the one who came through the door first, followed closely by Colonel Potter, Radar, and BJ. The sight within stopped them all on a dime. Hawk licked his lips and stepped forward slowly, hands up. He’d obviously been sleeping. His hair was tousled around day old bandages and his robe was hanging off one shoulder.

“Shirley, put the knife down,” he said.

“No!” she replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. “If she’s gone, you can love me again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know,” she hiccupped. Her grip was loosening some, but Irene was too afraid to push her off in one go. The blade was still too close. “Since she got here you’ve paid her all the attention. You forgot about me because of her.”

Shirley stabbed the knife closer and Irene barely had time to tense up.

“If you do this, there’ll never be a me and you again,” Hawk said, rushing forward only to stop himself after a step. “You know how this’ll end if you hurt her and then… how can I be with you if you’re behind bars?”

The entire room froze for what seemed like an eternity. Shirley’s eyes shifted rapidly, tears streaming down her cheeks and onto Irene’s shirt which covered a heart that beat a mile a minute. Irene wouldn’t be surprised if everyone else could hear it.

“You threw me aside for her,” Shirley said at last, shaking her head but making no move to push the knife closer. “I don’t understand.”

“I think there’s been a mistake,” he said, but his tone was uneven.

“You know, Hawk, he’s a flirt.” BJ spoke calmly but his hand gripped the doorframe so hard his knuckles had gone white. “He does that with every new nurse that comes through but you, he talks about you all the time.”

“Yeah, how could I pass you up?” Hawk took another step forward, but Shirley didn’t move. “You’re beautiful and kind. I’ve never seen a nurse with more care and patience. You’re… you’re intelligent and funny. I wish I’d known you felt so strongly about it—”

“Would you have changed?” Shirley yelled, now staring daggers at him.

“Of course I would have. Now put the knife down and we can talk about it, alright?” Carefully, slowly, he extended his hand and wrapped it around Shirley’s. She hesitated, then released the knife and let Hawkeye lead her to the door where two MP’s stood waiting behind BJ.

Hawk passed her off and Potter demanded she be held in the VIP tent until he could arrange for a court martial. Shirley realized she’d been tricked, and her screaming could be heard across the compound as the MP’s arrested her.

Irene was back on her feet by the time Hawk got to her. She didn’t shrug away when he put his arms around her to comfort her and in her relief, she held him back.

“I should take another look at that leg,” BJ said as Hawk helped Irene limp toward the door. “It’s bleeding again.”

“Probably ripped the sutures open,” Margaret said.

Gently, Hawkeye picked Irene up and carried her back to OR, slogging through snow that had turned to slush in the road. “You’re going to be just fine,” he said. “I’m going to scrub up and take care of those sutures myself. And right after, I need to talk to you.”

“Me too.”

Irene hadn’t been in post-op a full minute when Hawkeye came to her side. He sat at the edge of her bed and she sat up a little on her pillows. There’d ben plenty of time while tending to her leg to think of what she was going to say to him, but not nearly enough to ease the tension she felt in her chest.

He’d hardly sat down, and she already felt a lump in her throat.

“I wish I knew what to say,” he began, forcing a smile. Purple rings under his eyes and a tired expression spoke volumes about their last few days. He took her hand in his and stared at it as he traced over her knuckles. “I can apologize. Swear that if I’d known I’d have changed but—” he shook his head. “I never could have imagined things would end up this way.”

“I should have said something sooner, but I think it’s time I said something now.” Irene clutched his hand firmly and swallowed hard. “Hawkeye… Since I met you something’s happened, I never intended. I’ve started to care about you.”

“I have too,” he said. “At first it was just a crush but now, with everything we’ve been through, I think… I think I love you.”

“Hawk, please. I’m trying to say that I can’t.”

“What? Why? Shirley’s going to be court martialed. She’ll be gone and—”

“Do you even hear yourself? She loved you enough to try and kill me in order to get you back. And you cast her off just like that? I’m not saying what she did was right by any means and she deserves the punishment she gets; but what about you? I’m afraid. Shirley was amazing, despite her… her obsession. Whatever made her do all of this aside, you had no idea and thought she was great. And what? I come into camp and you forget about her. I can’t give my heart to someone who does that. I need a man I can be first with. If I’m here with you, I can’t trust that I can keep my distance.”

“So you do care about me? Then why are you running? If you feel it too, why can’t you stay, and we can be together.”

“I don’t want to be hurt like that again. I’m sorry Hawkeye… Doctor. I think I need my rest.” She pushed through despite the tears that snuck their way past her resolve. He didn’t hesitate to wipe them away even though she wasn’t telling him what he wanted to hear. “I’m still going to request a transfer tomorrow morning. I’m sorry.”

Hawk hung his head and nodded slowly, still dragging his thumb over her knuckles. “Me too.” He left without another word but slammed the post op door so loudly Irene was sure the nurse on staff was going to have his head.

Irene watched the door for several minutes, unsure of what she expected to happen next. When nothing did, she lay back in the cot and stared at the ceiling until she fell asleep.


	20. Facing the Truth

**20**

**Facing The Truth**

“Where in blue blazes have you been boy?” Potter crowed as Hawkeye shuffled into his office, bleary eyed. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

BJ eyed Hawk but did say anything. He stood to the side, leaned against the old saddle with his arms crossed and his jaw set. Hawk took a seat in one of the chairs in front of Potter’s desk but the Colonel didn’t sit.

“Sorry, Colonel,” was all Hawk could manage to say. He pulled his coat tighter over his chest and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I spoke with Lt. Foster yesterday morning about what’s been going on and despite my best efforts, she still wanted to put in for a transfer. I understood why she wanted to go and made the decision to file the transfer anyway. Now before you go bustin’ at the seams, Pierce,” he said, holding up a hand when Hawkeye looked like he might spout off, “I got word a couple hours ago that her request has been denied. For now. Pending Lt. Grey’s court martial, Foster’s been ordered to stay right here.”

“What about after that? She can’t leave.”

Potter propped against the front of his desk, facing Hawkeye and relaxed his tone. “I understand you care about the girl. Really, I do. And I don’t want to lose a good nurse. What should I have done? Kept the girl here because of personal feelings? She’d feel like a prisoner. You don’t want that any more than I do.”

“There’s no guarantee they’d transfer her anyway,” BJ said. “Nurses are in short supply these days. We’re already losing one, I doubt the Army’ll let one transfer out when we’re already understaffed.”

“That’s a good point,” Potter said. “Just try to relax until we get this thing sorted. Now, I have guards posted around the VIP tent where we’re keeping Grey, but you know how those boys get. Until the court martial, you and Foster can’t go anywhere alone. BJ’s agreed to stay with you, and I talked to some of the nurses about keeping up with Foster. I know it’s a pain, but considering what happened, I think this is the best course of action to keep you two safe.”

“I don’t understand why the MPs haven’t picked her up yet,” BJ said. “She nearly killed someone.”

“The road between here and Seoul is blocked,” Potter explained. “Rockslide off one of those mountains filled the pass with twenty plus feet of rock and snow. The engineers are doing their best with it, but it’ll likely take a few days. Only other way is chopper and the Army’s not willing to part with any that aren’t for wounded since there’s a push on. The only thing we can do is stay vigilant and hope the MPs get through soon.”

“Does Irene know her transfer didn’t go through?” Hawk asked.

“I expect Margaret’s handled that already. Now you boys get back to the Swamp and get some rest. We have wounded expected from the front in a few hours and I want you both bright eyed and bushy tailed when we go in there.”

“Too bad that rockslide didn’t take out the front lines,” BJ said as Radar poked his head around the door.

“Sorry sir, phone lines are down.”

“Dammit. How’re we supposed to know when the casualties are coming?” Potter bellowed.

“I’ll try again sir.”

“No need, just keep an eye out on the compound. I don’t want to get blindsided.”

Radar disappeared again but Hawkeye didn’t have the heart to make a joke after him. The news of Irene staying in camp was bittersweet. On the one hand, he had time to see her again, just for a while. On the other hand, he had time to see her again. He’d have to stand beside her at an operating table for hours and feel her warmth so close, hear her voice echoing his requests. It was Carlye all over again. It didn’t matter how much he loved her; he couldn’t change. If it wasn’t the skirt chasing, it’d be him putting his patient’s first.

Before the others could speak Hawkeye left the office, trudging across the compound back to Rosie’s where for a couple bucks she agreed to hide him off in the back room where he could drink alone.

Winter wind tore across the compound, bitterly cold. He hadn’t properly felt his fingers or nose since the day before but he didn’t care either.

“Where are you headed alone?” BJ said, trotting up beside him.

Hawk paused. “I don’t know.”

“What’s going on with you, Hawk? You’ve been acting weird since you and Irene got back. You wanna talk to me about it?”

“I saw it happen, BJ.”

“I don’t follow.”

“That moment in the field when she was running back to me and saw that man get cut in half by the helicopter blade right in front of her. We know everyone has their breaking point, but I saw hers. The very moment it happened. She woke in my arms screaming.”

“That happens to everyone eventually.”

“But what if it was Peg?”

BJ dropped his head.

“She pulled a gun on a man for me,” Hawkeye said. “When they came to get us, we had no idea who was out there. I had a concussion. If the Chinese had come in, I wouldn’t have been able to protect her. I would have been helpless, but she protected me. Put herself between me and danger and… and maybe she’d have been willing to shoot someone. I can’t even comprehend that. I know she cares about me, but she’s trying her damndest to get away and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Let’s go back to the Swamp. I’ll buy you a drink.”

Hawkeye absently watched as a jeep sped up the hill and past Rosie’s, forging ahead through mud and slush. His eyes followed the jeep drove out of sight before turning around to go with BJ. Margaret walked by with her hands shoved under her arms, stealing glances at the road. Worry creased her brow and she seemed in a hurry to get to Potters office.

“What’s wrong?” BJ asked.

She stopped and shifted her weight. “A doctor just came through on the way to battalion aid. Apparently he stopped Foster and asked how he might get a nurse to go with him and she volunteered without my permission. Just got in the damn jeep and took off with him. Her leg’s not even completely healed yet and she’s pulling this bone headed move. I don’t know what’s gotten into her!”

“She went to battalion aid? We can’t let her do that, we have to go get her,” Hawk insisted. “She could get killed out there.”

“I don’t know what else we can do,” Margaret said. “We have casualties coming in the next couple of hours, I have half my nurses prepping the OR and the other half resting before they get here and I still haven’t checked supply. We can’t spare anyone to go running off to bring her back.”

“Go tell Potter,” BJ said calmly. “I’ll make sure Hawkeye stays put.”

Margaret glanced between the two and deciding she had no choice, went to inform their commander of their flighty nurse.

“I have to go get her.”

“Hawk, you can’t. I know how bad you want to, but we need you here. A lot of boys’ll go home in pine boxes if you’re not here to patch them up.”

“But Irene—”

“She wouldn’t want you risking those kid’s lives on a chase to bring her back. You have to take a little faith that she’ll be alright. Then you can sweep her off her feet with your hero routine.” BJ clapped his hand over Hawk’s shoulder and tried to keep a smile on his face.

“I don’t want to lose her.”

“She’s going to be alright.”

“If she comes back, and God I pray she does, she still wants to leave. I love her Beej.”

“You’ve been in love before. I’ve seen you let women go before and you’ve always come out alright. You’ll be alright this time too.”

“But what if I don’t want to be? I mean… how long can I run from this? Maybe I don’t feel like running anymore.”

BJ nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay. C’mon Hawk. We need some sleep.”

There wasn’t any more to talk about. He didn’t want to run but he also felt that same old insecurity slipping into his brain and BJ… well, Beej wasn’t about to kick him when he was down but Hawk knew the look of doubt in his friend’s eyes was well founded.

The love he’d felt for Carlye hadn’t been enough. He’d proposed himself into a corner with her. Said beautiful, shallow things that should have been given with sincerity but had come out as more of him talking himself into marriage. A life with her. How could he think there’d be anything different with Irene?

And what if she was right? What if he lost interest and started chasing the next nurse who came in that hadn’t been hardened by war? Like Irene had been. That scent. The damn smell of flowers that had clung to him after that first session in the OR when she refused to tell him her name. He’d hurt her. He couldn’t even say to himself that it wouldn’t happen because he didn’t know.

BJ led the way back to the Swamp and Hawkeye wrestled with himself internally until the burn on gin jolted him out of it. He hadn’t even realized he had it in his hand until it was tearing away down his throat. Charles was already asleep and snoring lightly from his cot and Hawk just stared at him, no, through him to nothing.

“You’ll feel better after a few dozen hours on your feet,” BJ said, slipping off his boots. “But no more booze till we’re finished.”

Hawk swirled the clear liquid in his glass for a moment before throwing the rest back and dropping into bed. He didn’t bother with his boots or his blanket, just turned off his light and ran himself in circles about what to do about Irene when she came back. If she came back.

He tossed to the other side, trying to leave the thought behind, but it was that very thought that crawled back in as his body gave in to sleep and led him straight into a minefield of nightmares.

* * *

“You alright, little lady?” The doctor asked when Irene peeked back for the sixth time at a camp she couldn’t possibly still see.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.” Irene turned to the doctor, an older gentleman that reminded her of her father. He had gray hair, a strong jaw despite a bit of pudge that had accumulated in his age, and kind eyes that held a softness that people trusted.

“Major Daniel Reeves. And you are—”

“Lt. Irene Foster.” They shook hands and then Irene went back to tucking her hands under her arms for warmth. The wind blowing in her face was sharp, biting. She looked back again.

“You sure there’s nothing eating you?” he asked again.

“More that you’d care to hear.” She tried to force a laugh.

“We have time. Besides, maybe this old man’s got enough years on him to give some good advice.”

“It’s alright, I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Not at all. It’s along ride and I’d rather hear your story than any of mine. Told ‘em a million times, see? Boring!”

 _What could it hurt?_ she thought. Gazing out at the landscape made white by snow and brown by mud in the trenches, she told him everything. Probably more than he wanted to hear and the more she said, the more she felt like a fool. When she finished she was prepared for him to say she needed to move on. To do exactly what she was trying to do and run. Hawkeye wasn’t any good for her and if she asked him to change he’d only end up—

“Seems to me like you’re running for the wrong reasons,” he said after a long pause.

“W-what?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all these years, it’s that the price of love is pain. Doesn’t mean it’s any less worth it. Look, you can’t live your life afraid of pain or disappointment or failure… you live it for today. Enjoy that love while you have it, and when it’s gone, well, grieve for it and the look back on it with fond memories and take the lessons with you.”

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Take it from experience. You’ll regret it and wonder what would have happened if you don’t even try.”

“Even if I know what’s going to happen?”

Major Reeves laughed. “Little lady, I’ll have you know that I wasn’t always this hearty,” he slapped his belly a few times. “I was young once and a bit like your Captain Pierce. Always after women but I’ll tell you what, I had just the right girl take a chance on me and we’ve made a wonderful life together.”

“But if I’m not the right girl, I’ll end up hurt anyway.”

“Maybe. But isn’t it worth the risk to not live in regret?”

Irene sat back, teeth chattering. She hadn’t thought about it that way. What was she running from exactly? Fear of getting hurt? Fear of not being good enough? Fear of being used by another man? None of that was Hawkeye’s fault. What happened with Andrew wasn’t Hawkeye’s fault.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Reeves said. “We still have this harrowing trip to make, right? Plenty of time to consider what you want.”

The sound of shelling grew closer as they neared the front lines but Major Reeves didn’t seem concerned in the least. Irene shrank back from the noise and remembered what had happened only a few days before, when she’d jumped from the helicopter to run back to Hawkeye. She was fooling herself to think she could walk away so easily. The prospect of getting hurt still buzzed in her head, but she didn’t have to take the rest of the trip to think, she knew what she wanted. To hell with the consequences.


	21. Dog Tags

**21**

**Dog Tags**

Hours passed like mud through a sieve, and still the wounded kept coming. The phone lines were down and there hadn’t been any word from Irene or the doctor she’d left with. One after the other, corpsmen brought boys in for surgery and one by one Hawkeye sent them back out the door with prospects of a future.

Blood caked onto his boots, seeping through in places where the leather hadn’t held up, soaking spots in his socks. Margaret remained as fretful as he felt and keeping her calm was the only way of talking himself through his own anxiety.

Radar came in with drinks for the weary surgeons and Margaret whipped around so fast it startled Hawkeye. Lucky for them all, he was still getting gloves on and prepped for the next soldier. She didn’t get a chance to utter a word as Potter spoke up first, asking about Irene.

“No word yet, sir,” Radar said, serving Potter first. “No word on when those lines’ll be up again either. But I did just have some guys ride through a little bit ago on their way to the front. Said the road to Seoul is clear and an ambulance bus should be here within the hour.”

“How long have we been at this?” Potter asked.

“Oh um, about ten hours, sir.”

“Damn. I’d think Foster would have been back by now.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” Margaret asked.

“All we can do is wait.”

Hawkeye felt eyes on him. He looked up to meet BJ’s gaze from the next table over. Hawk was getting a firsthand look at what Beej had experienced when he’d gone to get a haircut and Hawk had to fill in for him at battalion aid. It was torture.

Klinger burst through the double doors. “Those guys headed up to the front just camp back with an injured doctor. Said they found him next to a wrecked jeep a few miles up the road.”

“My God,” Margaret breathed.

“Get him in here,” Potter said. “Did he say anything about Foster?”

“No, sir. He just keeps repeating Hawkeye, over and over.”

“Better get out there, Pierce.”

Hawkeye stripped off his gloves and threw them on the floor as he ran out the door, hot on Klinger’s heels. The two soldiers were on their knees in the front seats, leaned over to tend to the doctor as best they could but the man was in terrible shape. His right leg was gone at the knee and the tourniquet the men had tied wasn’t doing its job. Blood oozed from the wound as well as from a head injury and something on his chest that Hawkeye couldn’t see for all the blood.

“What happened?” Hawk asked, surprised the man had made it this far.

“Dunno,” the first soldier replied. “The jeep was on fire and he was laying halfway in the road.”

“Was there a woman with him? There should have been a woman too.”

“I didn’t see a woman. Sorry, sir.”

“Dammit.”

“Hawkeye,” the doctor said, breathing raspy. “Hawkeye.”

“I’m here. I’m Hawkeye. Where’s Irene? Was she with you?”

“Hawkeye,” he repeated, holding out his hand.

A metal chain snaked across Hawkeye’s wrist, dog tags landing in his palm before the doctor’s hand dropped. His head rolled back, mouth agape.

“He’s dead,” Klinger whispered. “What did he give you?”

“Irene’s dog tags.” Hawkeye’s heart dropped into his stomach. In the split second before he sprang into action, he nearly vomited. “I have to go.”

“Wait, where?” Klinger yelled after him but Hawkeye didn’t reply. He jumped into the nearest jeep and tore out of the compound, sliding in a patch of mud right outside of Rosie’s.

He clutched the steering wheel, yelled and cursed and begged for miles until at last he could see the glow of fire through the trees. The jeep was in pieces scattered around the area and what was intact was in flames, lighting the road and the snowy clearing on the other side of the ditch.

Hawk ran toward the wreckage, slipping in a puddle of blood that had nearly frozen on the side of the road. The snow had been disturbed and he could tell it was where the doctor had pulled himself before he was found by the soldiers. Hawkeye slid down the ditch, following the trail of blood until he saw a mass in the snow.

“Irene!”

She didn’t move, not even when he carefully rolled her over. Snow had packed into a severe wound in his chest, stopping the bleeding but Hawk was afraid she was already dead. Her lips were blue and her eyes were partially open. Hair made wet with blood had frozen and crunched under his hand. There was a pulse. Faint. And he could hardly hear her breathing at all.

“Stay with me. You’re going to be fine.” His voice shook nearly as violently as his hands as he lifted her from the snow. “I’ll fix you up and you’ll be just fine.”

The hill seemed steeper on the way up and he failed to climb it twice before he dropped to his knees, heart pounding against his ribcage, breath coming in gasps. His body shook under the strain but one more push and he made it, driven by adrenaline. He put Irene on the litter strapped to the back and searched the jeep for a medical bag, cursing himself for not grabbing one before he left but breathing a sigh of relief when he found one shoved under a seat.

He dressed the wound as best he could and wrapped an old blanket around her though he knew it wouldn’t do any good, then raced back to camp. Klinger and Radar met him at the jeep and carried the litter in without question. Margaret and Alice helped Hawkeye prep for surgery, but Alice had to be excused when she broke down crying in the middle of tying on his smock. Hawk couldn’t blame her. He wanted to do the same.

“Your hands are shaking,” Margaret said as she helped him scrub. “Are you sure you don’t want BJ or Winchester to do it?”

“No. I want to do it. I need to.”

“Alright.”

BJ and Charles were waiting at the table when Hawkeye got back. Potter was finishing up his last patient. BJ sat on the stool at the head of the table, ready to act as Hawk’s anesthetist while a couple nurses put new gloves on Charles and prepared trays for surgery.

“Steady, Pierce,” Charles said, his voice not lacking in sympathy.

Hawkeye nodded as Klinger and another corpsman brought in the stretcher with Irene. Cleaned up the wound looked worse than Hawkeye thought it was. The sight nearly brought tears to his eyes but he took a shaky breath and set to work.

“Her skin is freezing,” Charles said.

“She was face down in the snow.”

“That fact alone might have saved her. Have the extremities been examined for frostbite?”

“Yes, sir,” a nurse replied. “The circulation was slowed, but no sign of frostbite.”

“At least there’s that.”

“Having her fingers and toes won’t mean anything if we can’t fix this chest wound,” Hawkeye growled.

Father Mulcahy loomed nearby, signing the cross as he began to pray quietly to himself. He was on standby. Only doing his job and as much as Hawk respected the man, it was times like this he felt himself at war with what the Father was doing. At war with death itself. Mulcahy only brought peace with him, but sometimes it felt the grim reaper standing behind him. Waiting.

“This seems so strange,” Charles mused, and Hawkeye didn’t have to ask what he meant.

Usually they had young men on these tables. The only women they got were the occasional pregnant lady or sometimes civilians that had been wounded by bombs dropping on their villages. They always seemed so fragile and Irene… she had the worst wounds Hawkeye had ever seen on a woman, much less one he cared about.

“I think I almost got it all,” Hawk said, plunking another piece of metal into the receptacle Margaret held out for him. Despite the cold, sweat dotted his forehead and she was quick to wipe it away, offering words of encouragement that passed through his head without thought. Blood was becoming more liquid as her body warmed and he knew he had to close soon. “There. That’s the last piece.”

“I’m not getting a pulse,” BJ said.

“Get me that rib spreader!”

Charles assisted with the spreader while Hawkeye hopped onto the table as he had done so many times before with soldiers. He straddled Irene’s hips and there it was… her heart, stopped, between her ribs. He took it in his hands and went to work with the kind of desperation he hadn’t felt in a long time. Death waited in the wings and watched as Hawkeye fought back.

“C’mon, Irene. C’mon,” he begged.

“Nothing,” BJ said, voice losing his calm tone.

“Stay with me!”

The room went still and silent, nurses, doctors, corpsmen, waited with bated breath for a sign.

BJ paused, “I’m getting a pulse. It’s weak, but it’s there.”

Hawkeye nearly collapsed. He slid off the table with Margaret’s help and Charles removed the rib spreader. She wasn’t out of the woods yet, but this was one step closer. Hawk closed the wound and dressed it himself instead of letting a nurse do it. That control freak that lived in the back of his mind took over, terrified that if he wasn’t in control over every step someone might do it wrong and he’d lose Irene for good.

“Damn good work, Pierce.” Potter patted Hawkeye on the back. “Why don’t you go get some rest.”

Hawkeye didn’t argue this time. He pulled off his gloves and trudged into the scrub room where he dropped to the bench. BJ followed, stripping off his bloody clothes and cap to dump them in the dirty bin when Hawk pulled Irene’s dog tags from his pocket. Blood had dried and crusted on them and some had flecked off.

“Those soldiers didn’t know to look for her,” Hawk said. “If that doctor hadn’t gotten these tags to me…”

“But he did,” BJ replied, hand on Hawkeye’s shoulder. Hawk put his hand on BJ’s wrist, clutching it tightly. “You can’t think about what might have happened. She’s here and you saved her.”

“She still has a long way to go before I can say I saved her.”

“Where are you going?” BJ asked as Hawkeye started for the door.

“Post-op. I want to make sure she’s going to be alright.”

“Hawkeye, stop. You know we have the best nurses in Korea. They know what to do. You don’t have to have your hand on every little thing. Get some rest. If you don’t and they do end up needing you, you won’t be up to the task.”

“I’m fine.”

“You look like death. Get some sleep.” BJ’s tone was firmer.

Hawk removed his smock and threw it hard into the bin. Handing over the reins wasn’t easy. He knew he’d toss and turn in his cot until he could see her again or… or maybe not. Adrenaline left him and no amount of fear could push him any farther. His body was tired. His mind was exhausted. As soon as he collapsed into bed, he was asleep, still in his bloody boots.


	22. Goodbye, Hawkeye

**22**

**Goodbye, Hawkeye**

“Hawkeye. Hawkeye wake up.”

The urgency in Margaret’s voice broke through the haze followed by the feeling of her hand shaking his shoulder. The rest of the world was slow to follow. He blinked and found he was sitting up and she was helping him into his boots. BJ must have pulled them off for him. Her words slurred together and all he could understand was hypothermia.

When he stood and she draped his robe over his shoulders, he began to clear and the reality of what was happening sank in. He pushed his arms through the sleeves of his robe and Margaret explained it all over again.

“We can’t get Foster’s temperature up. We’ve packed hot water bottles around her and added extra blankets. I even had Klinger and some of the nurses move her closer to the heater but nothing’s helping.”

Alice sat at Irene’s bedside, checking her vitals. She barely looked up when Hawkeye came to stand beside her.

Irene’s skin was still pale, her lips retaining the hint of blue. Alice handed over Irene’s chart and Hawkeye scanned it quickly, but he already knew the problem. He’d seen it before.

“Where’s Klinger?” he asked.

“Nurse,” Margaret called to Able who sat on the other side of post op at the desk. “Go find Klinger.”

“And get him to bring that fur coat,” Hawk added as he pulled a clean bedpan off the stack in the corner. He stepped outside and grabbed a brick from a pile by the door. “Are there any extra blankets?”

“No, we’ve given her all we have.” Margaret leaned over the rail at the end of the bed.

Hawkeye put the brick in the fire and Klinger came in wearing cap, gloves, several layers of clothes, and a heavy fur coat.

“You sent for me, sir?”

“Yeah, remember that time you warmed up that blood for the hypothermia patients? I need you to do that again. Grab a bottle of O- and warm it up for me.”

“One bottle of the house finest, coming right up.”

“Does she have socks on?” Hawkeye asked as he used tongs to pull the hot brick from the fire and put it in the bedpan.

“Yessir. A few pairs actually,” Alice said.

“Good. I don’t want this to burn her feet.” Hawkeye lifted the end of the blanket and slid the bedpan under before tucking the edge under the mattress again. He sat on a chair by her head and grabbed a hot water bottle. “Warm this one up again.”

Alice took it and disappeared.

Hawkeye put his hand over Irene’s forehead, then let his fingers slide over her hair, down her cheek to her chin. He forgot Margaret was standing at the end of the bed, watching him.

“You really are worried, aren’t you?” she asked gently.

“I’ve never come so close to losing a woman like this before. I mean, I’ve lost plenty of women but I’ve never—” he inhaled and rested his hand on her head again. “Never lost one for good, you know?”

“Never had one die.”

“Right.”

“We’re going to do everything we can for her, Hawkeye.”

“I know. I just don’t know if it’s going to be enough.”

“If we can bring up her temperature, she’ll be just fine. What you suggested should help. Why don’t you go back to the Swamp and rest?”

“No. I don’t want to leave again.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“At least lay down here,” Margaret said, pulling the blankets back on the next cot over.

Hawkeye watched Irene’s face as if she might open her eyes any minute, but when there wasn’t even a fluttering of her eyelashes he gave in and rolled into the bed, kicking off his boots. He watched the slow rise and fall of Irene’s chest, body nearly giving in to sleep when he heard vehicle doors closing outside.

“The ambulance bus must be here,” Margaret said before two corpsmen walked through the side door. She assisted them with loading everyone else in post-op except Irene and a solider who had a mild infection but couldn’t be moved yet.

With everyone else gone, Margaret turned off the lights, leaving only one over the desk in the corner and whatever sunlight filtered through the grimy windows. Exhaustion settled on his shoulders and within minutes his eyelids closed, sleep winning him over once again.

* * *

By midday most of the snow had melted and the camp was able to shed their extra coats. The air was still crisp and cold, but it wasn’t unbearable. Some of the nurses complained, saying the weather was being cruel to warm up for a day or two before plunging them back to the depths of winter, but all of that was lost on Irene.

She woke to a dull pain in her chest, each breath heavy, as if something was sitting on her chest. Blinking she opened her eyes to the ceiling of post-op. How had she gotten here? Her memories were hazy. The last thing that was clear was the moments before the explosion. She heard the shot but nothing after. It was all blank. Except…

Hawkeye. It was dark, like a movie where she could only hear sound. His voice. She couldn’t remember the words, but she knew the voice. He’d saved her. Again. But how did he know where to find her? Wait, there way something else. Something in between. Doctor Reeves. She remembered him laying nearby, blood on his face shimmering in the light of a fire. That must have been the jeep. She’d broken off her dog tags and given them to him. He must have been the one to tell Hawkeye where to find her. She owed Reeves her life.

“You’re awake,” Margaret said, coming up to the end of her bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Alright. Getting some pressure in my chest.”

“You had a terrible chest wound. If you’re in pain I can get you something.”

“I think I can manage.” Irene looked over to see Hawkeye still fast asleep in the cot beside her. “Is he alright?”

“We almost lost you. Hawkeye had to perform open heart massage. He’s alright, just tired. He was really worried. We all were.”

“How did he find me? Major Reeves?”

Margaret hesitated, then sat at the edge of her bed. “Major Reeves didn’t make it. Some soldiers found him on their way to the front and brought him back here but his injuries were too extensive. He died shortly after he arrived.”

Tears stung Irene’s throat and the pain in her chest intensified. “He was a sweet man. I still don’t understand how you found me.”

“The Major had your dog tags with him. Hawkeye took a jeep and went to find you himself.”

“I can’t believe he did all that…”

Margaret sighed. “Look, I’ll be the first to tell you that Pierce is a hotheaded, womanizing, boozer, but for what it’s worth, he seems to care about you. More than just another fling. He wanted me to get him up when you woke up.”

Irene nodded and watched Hawkeye for a moment before Margaret put her hand on his shoulder and called his name. He stirred and opened his eyes, looking up at Margaret with confusion before realizing that Irene was awake. He sat up and moved to the chair that was between their cots.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m alright.”

“Hawkeye, I’m sorry but a helicopter is supposed to be here within the hour for her and Corporal Evans. We were able to clear the infection early this morning and Potter’s cleared him for travel. I’ll let you know when they get here.”

Margaret left the two of them alone and Irene reached for him. He wrapped both hands around hers and drew her fingertips to his lips once Margaret had left the room. She didn’t shy away from him but instead moved to put her hand to his cheek.

“I’m sorry I made things so complicated,” she said. “I was running from the wrong thing and for the wrong reasons. I never meant to make my past your problem.”

“No, don’t apologize. I didn’t give you any reason to think I was anything but what you thought I was. I did take Shirley for granted and I wasn’t open enough about what we were. I fell for you when I already had someone I thought was amazing. It wasn’t fair to her or to you. I’m the one who made things complicated.” He smiled sadly and closed his eyes. “I’ve been told I’m good at that.”

“Why do you look so sad?”

“Because when you leave here, you’ll be going to Tokyo General before they ship you home. I might not see you again.”

Margaret opened the door and stepped in. “Hawkeye, I’m sorry, but the helicopter is here.”

“Already?”

The corpsmen came in and Margaret motioned toward the solider they were to carry out. “I’m sorry, but it’s time for them to go.”

“I wish I knew what to say. I think the one thing I’d want to say, you already know.” Hawkeye turned back to Irene.

The corpsmen returned for Irene and she knew she only had one chance left. She grabbed his dog tags and he paused, letting her draw him in until she could whisper in his ear.

“You’ve left your fingerprints on my heart.” She kissed his cheek and the corpsmen loaded her up on a stretcher. Her hand slipped form his dog tags and she smiled at his confused look. It only took a moment before he understood but her name was the only thing he could manage to say in return before she was taken away.

Telling him didn’t make the weight in her chest any easier to bear. Surgery pain aside, saying what she felt hadn’t eased her. He was right. This might be the last time she got to see him. After recovering at Tokyo General, she’d be sent home to California. Even if he made it home, which she prayed with every fiber of her being he would, they were thousands of miles apart.

Every moment they’d spent with her pushing him away seemed such a waste when it could have been the way it was when they danced that one night when she’d let her emotions overrule her morals. The corpsmen took her outside and she closed her eyes against the sun, a few tears squeezing out from between her lids.

She’d see him again. She had to.


	23. No New is Still Better Than Bad News

**23**

**No News Is Still Better Than Bad News**

Two days passed with no word of Irene and Hawkeye was getting antsy. Phone lines were closed to anything that wasn’t necessary. Turns out HQ didn’t deem checking in on a patient to be necessary enough and every request Hawk had made had been denied.

He sat in the Swamp, tossing a ball back and forth with BJ but every toss was getting more and more aggressive. BJ caught the last one and shook the sting out of his hand.

“Easy, Hawk, we’re not training for the Dodgers.”

“Sorry, Beej.”

“You’ve been tense since Irene left. You really need to relax. You did a good job on her. She’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know. They moved her out so fast. I didn’t have time to check her myself.”

“They had to get her out of here for the next wave.”

“Yeah I know,” Hawk tossed the ball back, softer this time. “That OR session was brutal.”

“My feet are still trying to sue me for damages.”

“I’ve been here since the start and I figure I’ve seen it all. Then the war changes and decides to surprise me. You really think she’s fine?”

“I’m sure you’ll get word any day now saying she’s on her way home, safe and sound.”

Radar knocked on the door and opened it, shuffling in before Hawk or BJ could answer. He fidgeted with his clipboard and sat on the end of Winchester’s cot.

“Don’t let Charles catch you sitting on his bunk or he’ll have your head,” BJ smiled.

“He’s got a little guillotine under his pillow,” Hawk added before realizing that something was bothering Radar. The kid’s face was pale but his eyes were puffy and he didn’t look up at them. “What’s wrong, Radar?”

“I got through to Tokyo General,” he said.

“What? You did? Did they tell you about Irene?” Hawkeye stood so fast he knocked his martini glass on the floor

“I’m sorry Hawk, but… an infection set in after she got to the hospital and… and she didn’t make it, sir.”

Hawkeye’s shoulders fell and he dropped into his chair. Dead? He wrapped his hand around his dog tags. “How, I don’t—”

“Hawk,” BJ started, but Hawkeye didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say. Condolences only solidified what Radar had said.

“No. No, she can’t be.” Hawk threw the ball to the floor, pacing to the side just to turn back to Radar. “I want a line through to the hospital. I want to talk to them myself.”

“There’s no getting through again, sir. I’m already in trouble for lying to get through the first time. I liked her too, ya know,” Radar snapped.

Hawkeye turned on him so fast his dog tags swung around and slapped his shoulder. He lowered himself slightly to stare Radar in the eye, fire burning in his chest. “You don’t understand. I didn’t just like Irene. I loved her. Still love her. I was going to change for that girl and now you tell me she’s gone.”

“It’s not his fault, Hawk,” BJ said. “I can’t imagine how you feel but—”

“You’re right. You can’t imagine because the girl you love is safe in her home in Mill Valley; eating fudge and drinking coffee and taking care of the kid you two had the opportunity to make together.”

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.” Hawkeye stormed out the door, slamming it with such force the dartboard fell off.

Problem was, he didn’t know where to go. Rosie’s would be packed out since it was pay day. He’d have to go to the officer’s club and hope there wouldn’t be anyone there. He didn’t want company. He didn’t want anything. Except the one thing he couldn’t have. Not anymore.

There weren’t many people hanging around in the officer’s club, just Zale and Igor, both of whom seemed one shot from passing out at their table. Klinger had replaced Igor as the bar keep and played the part by dressing in a peasant dress with a bandana around his head and gold hoop earrings.

“Ah, Captain Pierce. I’m sure to rack up on tips with you at the bar,” Klinger joked, pouring a martini. “Hey, why the long face?”

“Irene. Got word from Tokyo that she didn’t make it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir. First one’s on me. You wanna talk about it?”

“I just want to be left alone.” Hawkeye downed the first glass. “Just keep these coming. Put them on my tab.”

“Got it.” Klinger poured one more and walked away, sitting at the far end of the bar to read a magazine.

The drinks went down like water, the burn dulled by a pain he didn’t know he could feel. He’d never had to feel it before. Gave him a small glimpse into how his father felt when his mother died. Back then he’d been angry with his father for hiding what was happening. Angry for losing his mother. He’d never thought about what it meant for his dad.

Hawk had only known Irene for a short time. His parents had been married for years. He’d have to apologize to his dad once he felt he could handle it. If that time ever came. She was gone. Forever. Just when things were smoothing out and he might have been able to change. He was willing to change. Now all he could do was lament over what could have been.

It took a couple hours before his alcohol tolerance met its match. He woke the next morning under surveillance in the Swamp. Post-op was full and the war was still moving but Hawkeye… he kept staring at the slow, steady drip of alcohol in the still. BJ was writing when Hawkeye woke, his head pounding, stomach rolling. He didn’t move or speak, and BJ didn’t notice he was awake, just kept on writing. Probably to his wife. Probably telling her how much he missed her and how he longed to hold her and…

Hawkeye closed his eyes tight, his hangover throbbing behind his eyelids. A quiet sob escaped him and BJ was sitting in Hawk’s chair in an instant. BJ’s hand rested on his shoulder and somehow that made the pain worse.

“Hawk?”

“I had a terrible dream that Irene…”

“I’m sorry, but it wasn’t a dream. Radar was in here yesterday, do you remember?”

“It’s hazy.”

“You went to the officer’s club and blacked out. You don’t remember how you got that?” BJ pointed to Hawk’s right hand.

He hadn’t noticed the bandages wrapped knuckles to wrist. “What happened?”

“You decked a Sergeant and trashed the bar. Took me, Klinger, and Potter to wrestle you to the ground. Margaret had to sedate you.”

Hawk covered his face with his hands.

“Potter wants to call Sidney out here.”

“I don’t need that,” Hawkeye sat up. “I need a drink.”

“I think you had enough last night. You can’t run from this. Let us help up you.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help. What I need I can’t have any more.”

“Just lay down and sleep. Get some rest. The past few weeks have been hell on you. If you get some sleep it’ll be a little better when you wake up.”

BJ helped Hawkeye to lay back down but restlessness was eating him alive. He wanted to walk to Tokyo and see for himself. He was angry before. He was still angry now, but there was a layer of guilt that had settled over his bones. How’d it happen? He’d done the best he could. Better than his best. Left his fingerprints on her heart.

He held up his right hand and looked over the unique patterns and swirls on his fingers until the tears in his eyes obstructed his vision. He tucked the hand under his head and kept his eyes shut tight, hoping BJ would get the point and go away. They sat in silence for a time, then BJ patted Hawk’s shoulder and walked away.

“If you change your mind, I’m right here.”

Hawk rolled over in his cot and put his back to BJ, preferring to keep his grief to himself. As soon as his bodyguard was asleep he’d be doing the only thing he could, ruining his liver. If he was lucky, it’d do him in for good.


	24. The Shot and The Cure

**24**

**The Shot And The Cure**

Two weeks passed and brought Hawkeye to a position of semi stability. At least when he was around other people. The time seemed to drag, and yet it felt like yesterday he heard of Irene’s death. Shirley’s court martial had gone smoothly, considering the person she’d attacked was no longer alive. She was sentenced and begged for Hawkeye when she was taken from the room but he didn’t give her a second glance. He couldn’t feel anything toward her.

Not enough time had passed for him to feel like laughing without guilt, and yet his body was rebelling against him. She wouldn’t want him to be sad. She wouldn’t want him to drink himself into a stupor every night or cry into his pillow or wake screaming in the morning.

At least that’s what they all told him as soon as his anger fizzled out and left nothing but a strange hollow feeling that was only filled when pain was present. A few days in Seoul a week after her death had been the first time he’d been able to grieve the way he felt he needed to. He drank. He laid in bed. He paced the room, smashed a flower vase and looked himself in the mirror to see that he didn’t recognize the man he saw there.

That realization scared him into the back room at the Pink Pagoda and into the arms of a beautiful Korean woman with warm brown eyes and endless bottles of saki. He didn’t remember anything else about that night but from what he heard later, he’d ended up bawling his eyes out halfway through getting the lady out of her pink kimono and had to be taken back to his hotel.

Of course that story never made it back to camp. He’d already been through sessions with Sidney and didn’t want them to think he was cracking up for good. He thought he was doing a good job at passing off as sane. Smiling in the proper company and keeping his drinking limited. The nightmares had all but stopped and he rarely cried like a madman. He kept it quiet. Grieved in private. About the only thing he couldn’t get a handle on was his temper, but he was working on it.

“You awake, doc?”

Hawkeye looked over to the Sergeant that was driving. How long had it been since he spoke to the poor guy? Had to be hours. It’d been midafternoon when they left battalion aid and now the sun was low on the horizon, the road darkened by overhanging trees. “Yeah, I’m awake.”

“Good. There’s a storm ahead. I’m going to try to beat it, but I don’t think we’ll be that lucky. I don’t have an issue with rain if you don’t, but if you want we can stop.”

Heavy clouds hung in the distance, fast approaching on harsh winds. The smell of rain was thick in the air and lightning flashed across the clouds. By the time they got back to camp it’d be pouring rain for sure, but he was tired. Blood spattered his shirt, his boots were wet, and his back and hands were cramped from hours of surgery in the cold.

“Nah, keep moving. I want to collapse in my own cot.”

“Yessir.”

A shot rang out of nowhere and the Sergeant swerved. Hawkeye lurched forward with the force of the hit. His shoulder burned like fire and he clutched it with his right hand only to withdraw it and see blood. Not that of another man, but his own, thick and shining in the dimming light. Pain throbbed through the wound but he tried to think clearly. Clinically.

“Should I pull over?” The Sergeant was panicked and yelling, glancing between Hawkeye’s shoulder and the road.

“No! That’ll just give them an easier target. Keep moving!” Hawk grabbed his medical bag and started treating his own wound, taking his arm out of his sleeve to apply pressure more directly. The bullet had moved through completely and was now lodged in the dash of the jeep. It went through muscle but there was a chance it might have nicked the bone.

An envelope fell from his pocket onto the floor between his feet and his heart jumped into his throat. He reached down to snatch it up, smearing blood across its wrinkled surface. He clutched it to his chest before putting it in his pants pocket.

Irene.

Father Mulcahy brought the letter to him the day after they heard of her death. He would have brought it sooner, but Hawk was too busy drinking himself into oblivion. Hawk didn’t have the strength to open it. He’d gotten close a few times, even going so far as breaking the seal on the corner but he’d not been able to make himself get any farther than that.

Once the Sergeant felt they were safe he stopped the jeep and helped Hawkeye bandage the wound. It’d begun to clot, but he’d need the hole cleaned and sutured before he felt he was out of danger. The loss of blood was making him a little dizzy but with the proper pressure on the wound he was satisfied he’d make it without bleeding to death. Thunder echoed through the valley and rain began to fall.

“Thanks, Sergeant. Now get us out of here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

They turned the last bend and saw the light of camp in the distance. Rain pelted Hawkeye’s face and turned the road to mud but the jeep pushed onward. They passed the tunnel under the road where he’d hidden Irene until he could come back for her with Sophie. The river was surging through that pipe now, washing away trees and debris that had been piled up there for months. When would this pass? When would he be able to live day to day without something reminding him of her?

The lights grew closer in the darkness and he could hear people cheering his return before they passed under the 4077th welcome sign. Nurses and doctors met them when the jeep stopped, their hands on him, helping him out but it was one pair of hands in the rain that caught him off guard.

A beautiful woman, brown hair plastered to her face, big brown eyes red from crying, like a ghost. She threw her arms around him and he froze, unable to make a move at first. How was it possible? Surely he’d lost so much blood he was hallucinating but she was pushed by the crowd and slipped, pulling him into the mud with her.

“Irene?” he asked, and she looked up at him from the ground, pulling him close and kissing him before he could say another word.

He didn’t question, only clung to her for dear life, returning her kiss with tears streaming down his cheeks, mixing with the rain. The camp cheered and clapped and laughed and cried and helped the pair of them to their feet. For the first time in weeks, Hawkeye smiled. Ear to ear and without a hint of guilt. Pain surged through his shoulder but he couldn’t make himself let her go.

“How?” he asked as she helped him to the OR. “They said you were dead.”

“There was a mix up in Tokyo. I didn’t even know until a few days later when my father came to collect my body but I couldn’t get word out to you. I’m so sorry to worry you. I sent a letter once I was strong enough and they still wouldn’t’ let me make calls.”

“It never got here,” Hawkeye sat on one of the table in triage while BJ and some nurses cleaned and prepared for surgery. Irene pulled off his wet coat and shirt, doing her part to get him ready. He pushed her wet hair from her face. “How… how are you here? Why weren’t you sent home?”

“Well, I told my father about you and what you’ve done for me. That you saved me. I asked him to let me come here before going back to the states and he agreed to let me.” Irene took his hand in hers and kissed his fingertips before pressing them to her cheek. “I missed you.”

“I was beside myself. I really thought you were gone for good.”

Alice poked her head in, already in mask and scrubs, her eyes puffy from crying but an obviously smile under her mask. “We’re ready for him.”

“Alright, we’re almost done here.” Irene helped Hawkeye out of his clothes and onto a litter where she pulled the blanket up to his shoulders. She brushed her fingers through his wet hair. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know. Will you be here when they’re done? This isn’t just a dream is it?”

She leaned in and kissed him again, her lips soft and warm and wet from rain. When she pulled away he smiled.

“Remember when I said you were a great kisser but it was just a dream? Well, you’re a lot better in real life.”

“This isn’t a dream. I’ll see you when they’re done stitching up that shoulder.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. We have a lot to discuss after they take care of you.”

Medics came to carry the litter into OR but Hawk grabbed her hand and the stopped.

“I love you.”

She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I love you too. Now go get that wound taken care of.”

Reluctantly he let her go and they took him into OR where BJ was absolutely beaming. Relief could be felt in all of them, especially Hawkeye. He could still feel her kiss and he could still see her through the window of OR, watching him as BJ treated his bullet wound. She didn’t fade like a ghost or a dream. She was real. She was alive.


	25. Goodnight, Irene

**25**

**Goodnight, Irene**

Silence had fallen over the camp by early morning hours the next day. Hawkeye had been released to sleep in the Swamp as post op was full but he never made it back to his own cot. Instead he lay on the soft, warm mattress in the VIP tent with Irene. The pair of them wrapped up in blankets, Irene tucked under his good arm and pressed in close to his side.

Rain came down in sheets outside and the tent had sprung a few leeks which were now being caught by buckets, cups, and an army helmet strategically placed on the floor but Hawkeye didn’t care. They were cozy huddled up together and he couldn’t ask for more.

A sleepy smile was still plastered to his face. They’d slept soundly for hours and for the first time in weeks, Hawkeye didn’t have a single nightmare. He traced the line of her jaw and she stirred, sighing and wriggling closer to him before opening her eyes.

“Hi,” he grinned.

“Hi yourself. How long have you been awake?”

“Not long. You think the weather’ll delay your leaving?”

“I hope so.” She stared up at the roof of the tent. “It’s really coming down out there.”

“I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.” He kissed her forehead and she breathed him in. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when you’re gone.”

“Same thing you’ve been doing I guess. Drinking, chasing skirts, making bad jokes.”

“My jokes are top notch. I should know, I wrote ‘em.” His smile faded as she laced her fingers in his. “I was a wreck when I thought you were dead. I did plenty of that first thing but… not so much the others.”

“I didn’t think you’d be that bad off.”

“I said I love you. Of course I’d be a walking basket case if I thought you were dead.”

“Will you be alright when I go home?”

“Now that I know you’re alive? I’ll be fine. When I get out of here, I’ll do whatever I can to get to you again.”

Irene rolled to her side and rested her hand on his chest. “I need to talk to you about that. I’d planned on going home to California. Working on base as a nurse but after seeing the war firsthand, I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“You’re quitting the Army?”

“As soon as I can.”

“Then what?”

“Well, I have this friend who talks about home and I think it sounds like the perfect place to be. Beautiful shorelines, fantastic people, and all the lobster I can eat. Unless of course, my friend was exaggerating.”

Hawkeye couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Crabapple Cove? You’d go to Maine?”

“I need a fresh start and where better to do that than as far from my home as possible?”

“That’s fantastic! I can write Dad and tell him you’re coming. Maybe he can take you on as a nurse and when I get home we can be together.”

Irene laughed through his kisses. “Calm down, Hawkeye. Don’t pull your stitches. It’ll take time for me to do what I need to get out of California and who knows how long this war will last.” She grazed his lips with her fingertips. “Hawk… when they took you in to get stitched up something fell out of your pocket. I wanted to ask you about it.”

“The letter?”

Irene pulled the letter from her pocket. “I guess Father Mulcahy gave it to you when word came in that I didn’t make it.”

“After I was cut off from drinking myself into oblivion, yes.”

“It wasn’t opened.”

“I just couldn’t do it.”

“Well, what about now?”

Hawkeye opened the envelope and removed the letter from within. A few drops of blood had soaked through, and it was as crumpled as the envelope, but it was still in good shape. Irene settled in and read it with him as he spoke out loud.

_Dear Hawkeye,_

_I wish I knew how to start this. You’ll likely never read it so I guess I can say what I feel. Since I arrived here I’ve been caught up in you. I never meant for it to happen and I feel guilty for taking your attention away from someone else. I had that done to me and it hurt me deeply._

_A part of me hates myself for how I still long to be near you, even when I know it’s wrong. I want to be with you and I think about you all the time. I can’t deny that your kind and gentle ways haven’t captured me. I hope you understand that my request for transfer was something I had to do._

_I can’t trust that if I’m around you much longer that I’ll be able to keep my feelings in check. I don’t want to be hurt, and I never meant to hurt you, but I don’t see a way around it unless I walk away now. I can honestly say that I love you. I’m in love with you. I can only hope you understand why I have to do this._

_All my love,_

_Irene Foster._

“Why didn’t you tell me you felt this way? When I get home, I’m going to make it up to you. I promise.”

“I’ll be praying for your safe return. But Hawk… I can’t ask you to change.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about this long and hard. If I ask you to change who you are, you’ll end up resenting me. I know that while I’m gone you’re going to… well, you’re a ladies man at heart.”

“No, no, I’ve changed. I can change for you. It’ll be you and me—”

“Hawkeye, hush.” She pressed her finger to his lips to quiet him. “I want you to promise me that if you meet some pretty new nurse and she takes your heart, you’ll tell me. I don’t want to put a label to us. To what you mean to me. I just want the promise that if you fall for someone else, you’ll be honest with me about it.”

“Irene I love you I won’t—”

“Promise me you’ll be honest.”

What could he say? He knew where his heart belonged, and he knew he wanted to change but… what if she was right? He’d loved after Carlye and he didn’t think it possible. He loved after Kyung Soon. Those were few and far between, he had to admit that to himself. All the women he’d been with and few of them he’d grown close to. Grown attached to. Irene was among those few and the only one he’d gotten a taste of losing to death.

“I promise,” was all he could manage.

“Good,” she sighed, resting her hand on his cheek. “Now that we have that out of the way, what do you want to do before I go?”

“Well, I have a few ideas,” he chuckled.

“Ah, down boy. BJ’ll kill you if you mess up his handiwork.”

“Just be gentle with me,” he smiled, pulling her in for a kiss. If this was the last day he saw her before she went home, he’d be with her in every way he could. He’d absorb her. Warmth, scent, taste. He’d keep those beautiful things with him, close to his heart and look forward to the day when he could be with her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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